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 China 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Byron Stingily to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 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 the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Hardrive,
Fatback Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bizarre Inc.,
H. Thieme,
Unwound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Bananas,
Robert Hood,
The Busters,
Reuben Wilson,
Severed Heads,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mars,
F. McDonald,
Ultimate Spinach,
Absolute Body Control,
Brick,
48th St. Collective,
Gong,
The Count Five,
Rekid,
The Blackbyrds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Swans,
Albert Ayler,
Y Pants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minny Pops,
Spoonie Gee,
The Five Americans,
Nirvana,
David Axelrod,
E-Dancer,
The Moody Blues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
A Certain Ratio,
Monolake,
Blancmange,
Aural Exciters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soul II Soul,
Wings,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacob Miller,
June of 44,
Todd Terry,
Kerrie Biddell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scott Walker,
Man Parrish,
Warren Ellis,
The Gladiators,
The Neon Judgement,
Delon & Dalcan,
Iggy Pop,
Gerry Rafferty,
Michelle Simonal,
Slick Rick,
The Cure,
Max Romeo,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.