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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lightning Bolt to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nik Kershaw,
June Days,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DJ Style,
Connie Case,
Black Flag,
Max Romeo,
Rakim,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Foxx,
Echospace,
Nico,
The Five Americans,
Nick Fraelich,
kango's stein massive,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Half Japanese,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Neil Young,
Dennis Brown,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skarface,
The Mojo Men,
Gichy Dan,
Lakeside,
The Cowsills,
Prince Buster,
Susan Cadogan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Real Kids,
Eden Ahbez,
Ossler,
The Golliwogs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rites of Spring,
ABC,
Japan,
Ornette Coleman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
James White and The Blacks,
Matthew Halsall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
The Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Boz Scaggs,
Neu!,
Gang Starr,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Zero Boys,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bang On A Can,
China Crisis,
Moby Grape,
FM Einheit,
Massinfluence,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Kinks,
Hoover,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.