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 Nicaragua and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 F. McDonald to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Associates,
Don Cherry,
The Happenings,
Sixth Finger,
Leonard Cohen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
Lower 48,
Gerry Rafferty,
Vladislav Delay,
Youth Brigade,
Tomorrow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scrapy,
Henry Cow,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tom Boy,
Crash Course in Science,
Gichy Dan,
Black Pus,
David McCallum,
the Association,
Robert Hood,
Letta Mbulu,
Max Romeo,
Mantronix,
Babytalk,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lyres,
The Mummies,
Yusef Lateef,
Matthew Bourne,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Christie,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hardrive,
the Slits,
Drexciya,
In Retrospect,
Robert Wyatt,
Los Fastidios,
Au Pairs,
Moebius,
Dark Day,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Carl Craig,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cluster,
Faraquet,
China Crisis,
The Misunderstood,
Radio Birdman,
Warren Ellis,
Colin Newman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dennis Brown,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.