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 New Zealand and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Young Marble Giants to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Suburban Knight,
Kas Product,
Rufus Thomas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Easy Going,
Man Parrish,
Supertramp,
Gang Gang Dance,
Interpol,
The Detroit Cobras,
Q65,
Clear Light,
Television Personalities,
A Certain Ratio,
Underground Resistance,
Hasil Adkins,
Matthew Bourne,
LL Cool J,
Slick Rick,
Babytalk,
Make Up,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Theoretical Girls,
Average White Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Chris & Cosey,
The Moleskins,
Bobby Sherman,
Absolute Body Control,
Crash Course in Science,
Michelle Simonal,
Terry Callier,
Bootsy Collins,
Byron Stingily,
The Moody Blues,
the Sonics,
The Mojo Men,
The Fall,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gang Starr,
The Smiths,
the Normal,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gories,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bronski Beat,
Mad Mike,
Icehouse,
Piero Umiliani,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sight & Sound,
James White and The Blacks,
Main Source,
John Lydon,
Fad Gadget,
Swans,
Rosa Yemen,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.