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 Romania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Angels of Light to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
The Moody Blues,
Joe Finger,
8 Eyed Spy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monks,
The Toasters,
Radiohead,
the Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
Lucky Dragons,
Newcleus,
Los Fastidios,
Wire,
Eric Copeland,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Remains,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Johnny Osbourne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Harry Pussy,
Soft Cell,
Joe Smooth,
Jerry's Kids,
The Move,
Franke,
The Durutti Column,
Yellowson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Silicon Teens,
Funky Four + One,
The Young Rascals,
Derrick Morgan,
The Blackbyrds,
Symarip,
The Wake,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mars,
In Retrospect,
Danielle Patucci,
Nirvana,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lindisfarne,
The Litter,
Blake Baxter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Selecter,
Wasted Youth,
Quantec,
Audionom,
The Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
Hasil Adkins,
Quadrant,
Faust,
Inner City,
Boredoms,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.