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 Montenegro and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet 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 Panda Bear to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
Susan Cadogan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Prince Buster,
The Fuzztones,
Rekid,
Mantronix,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Accadde A,
The Buckinghams,
Unwound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dead Boys,
John Coltrane,
Technova,
David McCallum,
LL Cool J,
Parry Music,
Crooked Eye,
Adolescents,
The Saints,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Music Machine,
Joey Negro,
Rufus Thomas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Television,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Byrd,
John Holt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Neon Judgement,
Wasted Youth,
Fad Gadget,
Sixth Finger,
Massinfluence,
Stetsasonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amon Düül,
The Shadows of Knight,
Faust,
Marine Girls,
Skarface,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joensuu 1685,
Derrick May,
Black Pus,
Warsaw,
Quando Quango,
The Zeros,
Hashim,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Byron Stingily,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bronski Beat,
the Germs,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.