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 Kiribati and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 David Bowie 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 Fat Boys to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Juan Atkins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sugar Minott,
The Dead C,
Rekid,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gang Green,
Max Romeo,
Rites of Spring,
Pole,
DNA,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Erasure,
Rakim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Germs,
Peter and Kerry,
Amazonics,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gun Club,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Carl Craig,
John Cale,
Hasil Adkins,
Morten Harket,
Steve Hackett,
K-Klass,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eli Mardock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tubeway Army,
Grey Daturas,
The Happenings,
The Slackers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The United States of America,
Joensuu 1685,
The Invisible,
Stetsasonic,
Motorama,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Duran Duran,
Massinfluence,
Moebius,
Severed Heads,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Index,
Robert Görl,
The Techniques,
Tears for Fears,
The Monks,
Von Mondo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grauzone,
Sound Behaviour,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.