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 Malta and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lower 48,
Fat Boys,
The Birthday Party,
Panda Bear,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Prince Buster,
10cc,
Organ,
Das Ding,
Sarah Menescal,
Public Enemy,
Masters at Work,
Moebius,
Judy Mowatt,
June Days,
Black Bananas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tom Boy,
Popol Vuh,
Josef K,
Harry Pussy,
Michelle Simonal,
Tomorrow,
Wolf Eyes,
Bronski Beat,
Colin Newman,
Steve Hackett,
Tres Demented,
The Buckinghams,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stiv Bators,
MDC,
Sex Pistols,
Pole,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boredoms,
Marc Almond,
The Sonics,
Arab on Radar,
Buzzcocks,
Kenny Larkin,
Rod Modell,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Pus,
Subhumans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Easy Going,
Icehouse,
New Order,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dark Day,
Pussy Galore,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Slave,
The Golliwogs,
James White and The Blacks,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.