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 Switzerland and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sight & Sound to the grime 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Royal Trux,
Tim Buckley,
Aaron Thompson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neu!,
The Golliwogs,
The Gun Club,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Reagan Youth,
OOIOO,
The Kinks,
Alphaville,
Danielle Patucci,
Godley & Creme,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flipper,
The Offenders,
the Swans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Fania All-Stars,
PIL,
Terrestrial Tones,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Howard Jones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scientists,
Intrusion,
Josef K,
Yusef Lateef,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Newcleus,
The Sonics,
Cameo,
Essential Logic,
The Human League,
The Motions,
H. Thieme,
AZ,
Niagra,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The New Christs,
Motorama,
Joe Smooth,
The Litter,
Joyce Sims,
The Techniques,
F. McDonald,
Glambeats Corp.,
Juan Atkins,
Half Japanese,
Altered Images,
Todd Terry,
Zapp,
Depeche Mode,
Joy Division,
The Remains,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.