Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kazakhstan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Cluster to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
The Searchers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crispy Ambulance,
F. McDonald,
The Red Krayola,
Delon & Dalcan,
Byron Stingily,
Grauzone,
Sonny Sharrock,
K-Klass,
Harmonia,
Aswad,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Circle Jerks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Frankie Knuckles,
DJ Sneak,
Massinfluence,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marc Almond,
Scrapy,
Pole,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
June Days,
Pantaleimon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sam Rivers,
Derrick May,
Oneida,
Heaven 17,
Supertramp,
Spandau Ballet,
H. Thieme,
Tommy Roe,
Leonard Cohen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Moleskins,
Robert Hood,
Malaria!,
Motorama,
Ludus,
Camberwell Now,
Man Parrish,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Flag,
Chris & Cosey,
Tears for Fears,
Dorothy Ashby,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
PIL,
The Monks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marshall Jefferson,
Negative Approach,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fat Boys,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.