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 Spain and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin 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 Lebanon Hanover to the grunge 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Guru Guru,
Bauhaus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Faraquet,
Minny Pops,
Slick Rick,
Laurel Aitken,
Tubeway Army,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalann,
New York Dolls,
Excepter,
Ossler,
The Last Poets,
X-102,
David Bowie,
Pole,
Gang Green,
the Normal,
The Knickerbockers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Patti Smith,
Roy Ayers,
Leonard Cohen,
Radio Birdman,
Duran Duran,
Deadbeat,
Whodini,
Eyeless In Gaza,
ABBA,
Bobby Byrd,
PIL,
The Buckinghams,
The Black Dice,
Funky Four + One,
Stereo Dub,
Susan Cadogan,
Hoover,
The American Breed,
Stiv Bators,
The Slits,
Albert Ayler,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Magazine,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Erykah Badu,
Groovy Waters,
K-Klass,
Lower 48,
Section 25,
Sun City Girls,
The Count Five,
Second Layer,
Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun Ra,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.