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 Bulgaria and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Colin Newman to the disco 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Warsaw,
The Durutti Column,
Yellowson,
The Electric Prunes,
Sun City Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Remains,
Mo-Dettes,
These Immortal Souls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Charles Mingus,
Sandy B,
Agent Orange,
Oblivians,
T.S.O.L.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Copeland,
F. McDonald,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stockholm Monsters,
Amazonics,
Easy Going,
Fugazi,
Pantaleimon,
The Saints,
The Buckinghams,
Gabor Szabo,
John Coltrane,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Royal Trux,
Deakin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sixth Finger,
The Residents,
Susan Cadogan,
Pylon,
Sonic Youth,
Country Teasers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Popol Vuh,
EPMD,
Niagra,
Goldenarms,
Reuben Wilson,
June Days,
Das Ding,
Lee Hazlewood,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mojo Men,
Roger Hodgson,
Boz Scaggs,
Model 500,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hashim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lakeside,
World's Most,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.