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 China and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Gang Gang Dance to the techno 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Surgeon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Mummies,
Susan Cadogan,
Spoonie Gee,
Sex Pistols,
The Techniques,
The Stooges,
Thee Headcoats,
Panda Bear,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Christie,
Accadde A,
Electric Light Orchestra,
La Düsseldorf,
Cluster,
The Victims,
In Retrospect,
Magma,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minor Threat,
AZ,
Yellowson,
Joensuu 1685,
T. Rex,
John Coltrane,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultra Naté,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Albert Ayler,
Blancmange,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kerrie Biddell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pulsallama,
Ultimate Spinach,
Supertramp,
Aural Exciters,
Marine Girls,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fire Engines,
Big Daddy Kane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Intrusion,
Sight & Sound,
Mantronix,
Quantec,
Cymande,
the Human League,
Gabor Szabo,
Public Enemy,
Bad Manners,
Pylon,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.