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 Haiti and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Janne Schatter to the rock 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Piero Umiliani,
Ludus,
The Remains,
Zapp,
Grauzone,
Erasure,
The Blues Magoos,
These Immortal Souls,
The Happenings,
The Doobie Brothers,
Supertramp,
Adolescents,
Absolute Body Control,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Shuggie Otis,
La Düsseldorf,
Sugar Minott,
Brothers Johnson,
Steve Hackett,
Moss Icon,
the Germs,
Half Japanese,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sister Nancy,
Inner City,
Ten City,
U.S. Maple,
Zero Boys,
Intrusion,
Barclay James Harvest,
Desert Stars,
The Gladiators,
Roy Ayers,
Das Ding,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Pop Group,
David Bowie,
Suicide,
Mo-Dettes,
June Days,
Lightning Bolt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Pus,
T.S.O.L.,
Isaac Hayes,
Wings,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harry Pussy,
48th St. Collective,
The Wake,
a-ha,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soulsonic Force,
the Swans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Interpol,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.