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 Peru and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Angry Samoans,
Archie Shepp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fortunes,
Severed Heads,
Barclay James Harvest,
Max Romeo,
Barbara Tucker,
The Sonics,
The Fuzztones,
Moby Grape,
The Misunderstood,
the Association,
Erykah Badu,
Dual Sessions,
LL Cool J,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gun Club,
Smog,
FM Einheit,
Stiv Bators,
T. Rex,
Bauhaus,
The Birthday Party,
Roxette,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Star Department,
Black Bananas,
Symarip,
Second Layer,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Simply Red,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dave Gahan,
The Seeds,
The Doobie Brothers,
Basic Channel,
The Divine Comedy,
Desert Stars,
Junior Murvin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Sherman,
Faraquet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lindisfarne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zapp,
Bronski Beat,
Newcleus,
Pole,
the Soft Cell,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tubeway Army,
Glenn Branca,
Scion,
Sun City Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.