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 Zambia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Raincoats to the electroclash 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Susan Cadogan,
the Bar-Kays,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Saints,
Peter and Kerry,
Blossom Toes,
Harry Pussy,
Sarah Menescal,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Byrd,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Sonics,
Smog,
Rod Modell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eurythmics,
The Sound,
Ronan,
the Human League,
Q65,
The Misunderstood,
The Smiths,
The J.B.'s,
Lee Hazlewood,
CMW,
Warren Ellis,
Make Up,
The Wake,
DJ Style,
Alice Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick May,
The Techniques,
Kenny Larkin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unrelated Segments,
Roxy Music,
Yaz,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Livin' Joy,
Stereo Dub,
R.M.O.,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Remains,
The Gladiators,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aaron Thompson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Blues Magoos,
Theoretical Girls,
Brass Construction,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tim Buckley,
Joey Negro,
Young Marble Giants,
Mo-Dettes,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.