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 Swaziland 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the oboe 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 Scion to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang of Four,
Intrusion,
The Gladiators,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Monochrome Set,
the Germs,
Jawbox,
Bauhaus,
UT,
The Wake,
Judy Mowatt,
Eve St. Jones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Womack,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gories,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Max Romeo,
The Mummies,
Suburban Knight,
Steve Hackett,
Dennis Brown,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Aswad,
Heaven 17,
Can,
Duran Duran,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Sonics,
U.S. Maple,
Porter Ricks,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Index,
Cheater Slicks,
Thee Headcoats,
Barbara Tucker,
Quando Quango,
New Order,
The Blackbyrds,
Colin Newman,
Amazonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Pus,
Kerri Chandler,
Marc Almond,
The New Christs,
Pylon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minutemen,
Surgeon,
The Monks,
Joe Smooth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Severed Heads,
Junior Murvin,
Graham Central Station,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.