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 Liberia and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the electroclash 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
The Motions,
Aural Exciters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tubeway Army,
Section 25,
Anthony Braxton,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick May,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Flipper,
Davy DMX,
The Invisible,
Al Stewart,
The Slackers,
Infiniti,
Jacob Miller,
The Saints,
The Blackbyrds,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Junior Murvin,
Don Cherry,
Pharoah Sanders,
48th St. Collective,
The Zeros,
June of 44,
PIL,
Funky Four + One,
Magma,
Siglo XX,
Camouflage,
Sparks,
The Real Kids,
Aaron Thompson,
Sound Behaviour,
Donald Byrd,
Fugazi,
Joey Negro,
The Busters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Banda Bassotti,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fuzztones,
The Walker Brothers,
Crooked Eye,
Goldenarms,
Spandau Ballet,
Stetsasonic,
Deakin,
Surgeon,
Cal Tjader,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Selecter,
Marcia Griffiths,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Human League,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bauhaus,
Severed Heads,
Swell Maps,
The Human League,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.