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 Azerbaijan and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 The Fuzztones to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a chamberlin 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 sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Toasters,
The Mummies,
Lou Reed,
Ronnie Foster,
Scrapy,
Arthur Verocai,
Sound Behaviour,
Soulsonic Force,
Tim Buckley,
AZ,
Khruangbin,
Quadrant,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nick Fraelich,
Derrick Morgan,
Max Romeo,
Isaac Hayes,
The Sonics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Oblivians,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Byrd,
Eddi Front,
Vainqueur,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quando Quango,
DNA,
Prince Buster,
Moebius,
X-101,
Kayak,
Charles Mingus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wings,
The Residents,
The Grass Roots,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang of Four,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dorothy Ashby,
ABC,
Black Sheep,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Move,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mr. Review,
Sandy B,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Womack,
Dead Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arab on Radar,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
U.S. Maple,
Minny Pops,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scion,
Radio Birdman,
UT,
World's Most,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.