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 Argentina and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Mojo Men to the grunge 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dual Sessions,
The Residents,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
H. Thieme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pantaleimon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sparks,
Pere Ubu,
The Black Dice,
Thompson Twins,
Bad Manners,
Mr. Review,
Nik Kershaw,
The Mummies,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brick,
The Slits,
Pylon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Human League,
Howard Jones,
Whodini,
Aswad,
X-102,
Q and Not U,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Inner City,
Hoover,
Mo-Dettes,
Nico,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Section 25,
Can,
The Mojo Men,
Young Marble Giants,
The New Christs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nick Fraelich,
ABBA,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pole,
Joensuu 1685,
Iggy Pop,
Infiniti,
Aural Exciters,
Prince Buster,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Man Eating Sloth,
Au Pairs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultravox,
the Association,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Y Pants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.