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 South Africa and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare 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 June of 44 to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
The Victims,
Index,
Rapeman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Residents,
the Bar-Kays,
The Saints,
Fela Kuti,
R.M.O.,
Organ,
Fear,
John Foxx,
Ludus,
Freddie Wadling,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roy Ayers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quando Quango,
Brand Nubian,
Robert Görl,
Godley & Creme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Saccharine Trust,
Michelle Simonal,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Zapp,
Boz Scaggs,
Grandmaster Flash,
David Axelrod,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dark Day,
MDC,
Patti Smith,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bob Dylan,
Rakim,
Chris Corsano,
Bush Tetras,
Swell Maps,
Tom Boy,
Oneida,
Skaos,
Funkadelic,
Radiopuhelimet,
Archie Shepp,
Amazonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
Boredoms,
Jerry's Kids,
Frankie Knuckles,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.