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 Tanzania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Animal Collective to the disco 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Blake Baxter,
Godley & Creme,
Marc Almond,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Intrusion,
Liliput,
Skaos,
Magma,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fugs,
MC5,
The Five Americans,
The Beau Brummels,
Kas Product,
Amon Düül,
Graham Central Station,
Main Source,
Sarah Menescal,
Fugazi,
The Durutti Column,
Davy DMX,
Marmalade,
Alton Ellis,
The Zeros,
Minny Pops,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Little Man,
Joe Finger,
B.T. Express,
Mission of Burma,
Excepter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sound Behaviour,
Saccharine Trust,
48th St. Collective,
One Last Wish,
Inner City,
New Age Steppers,
X-101,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fire Engines,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gap Band,
Jacob Miller,
The Black Dice,
Prince Buster,
Angry Samoans,
X-102,
Das Ding,
John Coltrane,
The Cure,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radiohead,
Scratch Acid,
Bronski Beat,
Andrew Hill,
The Toasters,
The Gories,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.