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 Palau and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the clarinet 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 the Human League to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Shoche,
Grandmaster Flash,
Zero Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mr. Review,
Avey Tare,
Man Parrish,
kango's stein massive,
The Martian,
Simply Red,
Jandek,
Absolute Body Control,
KRS-One,
A Certain Ratio,
Soft Cell,
The Motions,
The Raincoats,
Glenn Branca,
Stereo Dub,
Fat Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Brick,
Ten City,
Flamin' Groovies,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minor Threat,
Funkadelic,
Duran Duran,
Piero Umiliani,
Joe Smooth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pylon,
Suicide,
Cymande,
Amazonics,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skaos,
Electric Prunes,
LL Cool J,
the Human League,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eden Ahbez,
Blancmange,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül,
Arthur Verocai,
Bang On A Can,
Altered Images,
Nas,
Rosa Yemen,
Nico,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Gladiators,
Graham Central Station,
Lungfish,
X-Ray Spex,
The Monks,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.