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 Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Aloha Tigers 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Eden Ahbez,
R.M.O.,
Lakeside,
The Music Machine,
Dawn Penn,
Deakin,
Neu!,
The Gap Band,
The Pop Group,
Moby Grape,
The Leaves,
The Flesh Eaters,
Janne Schatter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boredoms,
Pere Ubu,
EPMD,
Maurizio,
Jeru the Damaja,
X-101,
Funky Four + One,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dark Day,
Easy Going,
Dorothy Ashby,
Idris Muhammad,
Jacob Miller,
Drexciya,
Al Stewart,
One Last Wish,
Lightning Bolt,
The Move,
Roger Hodgson,
Alice Coltrane,
Quantec,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Knickerbockers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Max Romeo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Desert Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tommy Roe,
Todd Terry,
Section 25,
Animal Collective,
The Martian,
The Cramps,
Byron Stingily,
The Pretty Things,
The Walker Brothers,
Ornette Coleman,
The Smoke,
Scion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.