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 Samoa and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Trojans to the grunge 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Minutemen,
Youth Brigade,
One Last Wish,
the Bar-Kays,
Bill Near,
The Moody Blues,
Parry Music,
E-Dancer,
Darondo,
Radio Birdman,
Blossom Toes,
Excepter,
Freddie Wadling,
OOIOO,
Rotary Connection,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Count Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Tommy Roe,
Ludus,
Jesper Dahlback,
Heaven 17,
Maurizio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Buzzcocks,
Donald Byrd,
Carl Craig,
Crash Course in Science,
Joensuu 1685,
Barbara Tucker,
Roxy Music,
Lindisfarne,
Quadrant,
The Kinks,
Funky Four + One,
The Monks,
Unwound,
Hoover,
The Evens,
Magma,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wally Richardson,
Lightning Bolt,
Soul II Soul,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brick,
The J.B.'s,
The Sonics,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bang On A Can,
Q and Not U,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Searchers,
Chrome,
The Gories,
Lyres,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.