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 Kiribati and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Subhumans,
Marc Almond,
Arcadia,
Amon Düül II,
Tim Buckley,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bang On A Can,
the Sonics,
Loose Ends,
Mission of Burma,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Juan Atkins,
Marmalade,
Kurtis Blow,
Henry Cow,
Faraquet,
The Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nas,
Max Romeo,
Second Layer,
John Coltrane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eric B and Rakim,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roger Hodgson,
Pulsallama,
Delon & Dalcan,
F. McDonald,
Ronan,
Stetsasonic,
Dave Gahan,
Deepchord,
Colin Newman,
E-Dancer,
Roxette,
The Trojans,
the Normal,
Dual Sessions,
A Certain Ratio,
Mandrill,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ituana,
Stereo Dub,
Barbara Tucker,
Swell Maps,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Albert Ayler,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Invisible,
Lou Reed,
Flash Fearless,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.