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 Barbados and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Barclay James Harvest to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Franke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Second Layer,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cluster,
Janne Schatter,
Circle Jerks,
Theoretical Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minny Pops,
June Days,
Sandy B,
Barbara Tucker,
The Monochrome Set,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Misunderstood,
Nico,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Aswad,
Average White Band,
Khruangbin,
Soul II Soul,
Eric Copeland,
Cameo,
Thee Headcoats,
Joey Negro,
The Moleskins,
Arab on Radar,
The Shadows of Knight,
B.T. Express,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Agent Orange,
Little Man,
kango's stein massive,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Slackers,
The Real Kids,
Duran Duran,
Rod Modell,
Sun City Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Prince Buster,
The Cure,
This Heat,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Pop Group,
The Saints,
Joe Smooth,
The New Christs,
Slave,
Soulsonic Force,
Niagra,
The Human League,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Associates,
June of 44,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bill Near,
The Electric Prunes,
Pussy Galore,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.