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 Belize and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 Magma to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
The Smiths,
Chris Corsano,
Charles Mingus,
Bauhaus,
Joe Smooth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marcia Griffiths,
Siglo XX,
Kerri Chandler,
James White and The Blacks,
Maleditus Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roxette,
Ten City,
Hoover,
The Vogues,
Erykah Badu,
Japan,
The Red Krayola,
Franke,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moss Icon,
Bill Near,
The Doobie Brothers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Matthew Halsall,
The J.B.'s,
Jerry Gold Smith,
H. Thieme,
The Mummies,
The Kinks,
Quadrant,
The Leaves,
Joey Negro,
Au Pairs,
Slick Rick,
The Knickerbockers,
Junior Murvin,
Echospace,
Inner City,
Rakim,
Idris Muhammad,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mantronix,
Mary Jane Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Cameo,
Dual Sessions,
UT,
Ultravox,
Radiohead,
Underground Resistance,
Colin Newman,
Pussy Galore,
Tropical Tobacco,
Carl Craig,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.