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 Germany and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Surgeon,
Depeche Mode,
Kurtis Blow,
The Selecter,
The Walker Brothers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Doors,
The Blues Magoos,
Patti Smith,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joensuu 1685,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Swans,
Inner City,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
E-Dancer,
Judy Mowatt,
Malaria!,
F. McDonald,
Eli Mardock,
Saccharine Trust,
Gichy Dan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hashim,
KRS-One,
Arcadia,
Stiv Bators,
Adolescents,
Brick,
MC5,
Josef K,
Q65,
Fat Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mo-Dettes,
The Modern Lovers,
Pylon,
Severed Heads,
The Velvet Underground,
the Fania All-Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
U.S. Maple,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angry Samoans,
The Index,
New York Dolls,
Howard Jones,
Television Personalities,
Little Man,
Neu!,
The Golliwogs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Warren Ellis,
10cc,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.