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 Finland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
a-ha,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bauhaus,
Lebanon Hanover,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Donny Hathaway,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Toasters,
Von Mondo,
Model 500,
The Detroit Cobras,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Magma,
Skarface,
Sam Rivers,
the Swans,
Sex Pistols,
Tom Boy,
X-102,
Black Moon,
New Age Steppers,
PIL,
Nils Olav,
Robert Görl,
The Flesh Eaters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lee Hazlewood,
One Last Wish,
Cybotron,
Harpers Bizarre,
Monks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Electric Prunes,
Roxy Music,
Davy DMX,
Radio Birdman,
Los Fastidios,
Lower 48,
Swell Maps,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
JFA,
The Knickerbockers,
OOIOO,
Dual Sessions,
Easy Going,
Pantytec,
The Move,
Absolute Body Control,
Flipper,
The Sonics,
The Gladiators,
The Gories,
Colin Newman,
Bill Wells,
Gabor Szabo,
Das Ding,
Silicon Teens,
Bad Manners,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.