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 Bangladesh and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mo-Dettes to the dance 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ituana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sixth Finger,
Suicide,
Pylon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Funky Four + One,
The Trojans,
Arcadia,
Symarip,
Country Teasers,
Swell Maps,
Minor Threat,
Lungfish,
The Slackers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Wake,
The Mummies,
Bobby Womack,
Cymande,
Half Japanese,
Soft Cell,
ABBA,
Porter Ricks,
The Buckinghams,
Fela Kuti,
Morten Harket,
Delta 5,
Q65,
Bill Near,
Grandmaster Flash,
48th St. Collective,
Ornette Coleman,
Chris & Cosey,
Qualms,
Scan 7,
Robert Wyatt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tommy Roe,
Mo-Dettes,
Siglo XX,
Fad Gadget,
Aloha Tigers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Sheep,
Loose Ends,
Aural Exciters,
Dead Boys,
John Lydon,
FM Einheit,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Doors,
Thompson Twins,
Amazonics,
Television,
Faraquet,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tears for Fears,
Pussy Galore,
Boredoms,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.