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 South Africa and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fad Gadget to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
48th St. Collective,
Duran Duran,
Half Japanese,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Au Pairs,
Tom Boy,
Camberwell Now,
John Foxx,
The Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
Ultravox,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Trojans,
Arab on Radar,
the Soft Cell,
The Black Dice,
The United States of America,
Franke,
Letta Mbulu,
The Smoke,
The Move,
The American Breed,
Surgeon,
Harmonia,
Pylon,
Harry Pussy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Amon Düül II,
Absolute Body Control,
Oneida,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Derrick Morgan,
X-102,
Jacob Miller,
Zapp,
Stetsasonic,
David Axelrod,
Michelle Simonal,
Swell Maps,
the Association,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dead Boys,
Intrusion,
Ten City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Delon & Dalcan,
New Order,
Tomorrow,
Con Funk Shun,
New York Dolls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joensuu 1685,
Crash Course in Science,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sister Nancy,
Lucky Dragons,
The Victims,
Hashim,
Mark Hollis,
Youth Brigade,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.