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 Iraq and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 Pharoah Sanders to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Bill Wells,
Nils Olav,
Marvin Gaye,
the Germs,
Popol Vuh,
Morten Harket,
Zero Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fugs,
Laurel Aitken,
Joyce Sims,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Moby Grape,
Moebius,
Sun City Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Livin' Joy,
Audionom,
Kerrie Biddell,
F. McDonald,
Roxette,
John Foxx,
The Techniques,
Jawbox,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brick,
Al Stewart,
The Selecter,
The Sound,
Y Pants,
Kayak,
Khruangbin,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Moon,
Electric Prunes,
John Lydon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Alphaville,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bob Dylan,
Shuggie Otis,
Barry Ungar,
Pylon,
Marine Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
The Cowsills,
A Certain Ratio,
Nico,
Slave,
The Neon Judgement,
Index,
the Soft Cell,
Rakim,
Soft Cell,
Quando Quango,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.