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 Angola and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the grunge 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Scott Walker,
The Count Five,
Malaria!,
Bang On A Can,
U.S. Maple,
Mark Hollis,
Symarip,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gladiators,
Angry Samoans,
Jacob Miller,
Minnie Riperton,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Byrd,
Deepchord,
Silicon Teens,
Sparks,
Funky Four + One,
Ludus,
Brick,
Shoche,
Stiv Bators,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Davy DMX,
La Düsseldorf,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Don Cherry,
Nirvana,
In Retrospect,
Boz Scaggs,
the Association,
Hashim,
a-ha,
Y Pants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ronnie Foster,
Groovy Waters,
Surgeon,
James White and The Blacks,
Smog,
The Associates,
Mission of Burma,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
The Invisible,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Los Fastidios,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cramps,
Royal Trux,
Rites of Spring,
X-102,
Johnny Clarke,
Young Marble Giants,
Skriet,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.