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 Macedonia and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Anthony Braxton to the crunk 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Heaven 17,
The Barracudas,
Ponytail,
Alphaville,
The Stooges,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pole,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Byrd,
John Foxx,
The Standells,
The Detroit Cobras,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amon Düül II,
Blake Baxter,
FM Einheit,
Magazine,
The Mummies,
The Dirtbombs,
Althea and Donna,
Joe Finger,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sarah Menescal,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pylon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Buzzcocks,
Lower 48,
Marmalade,
Piero Umiliani,
Juan Atkins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Residents,
Cluster,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harry Pussy,
Arcadia,
Youth Brigade,
The Fugs,
Main Source,
Max Romeo,
Au Pairs,
Siglo XX,
Pagans,
The Knickerbockers,
Todd Terry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Intrusion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Donald Byrd,
Little Man,
Mandrill,
Robert Görl,
Chrome,
Andrew Hill,
Sixth Finger,
Barry Ungar,
Scrapy,
James White and The Blacks,
Japan,
Yellowson,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.