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 Norway and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 sitar 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the electroclash 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Yellowson,
The J.B.'s,
Davy DMX,
F. McDonald,
Jeff Mills,
Agent Orange,
Kenny Larkin,
Al Stewart,
Severed Heads,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boogie Down Productions,
Brand Nubian,
The Gap Band,
The Searchers,
Don Cherry,
Chrome,
DJ Style,
Pharoah Sanders,
Albert Ayler,
Susan Cadogan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fugs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Warsaw,
Circle Jerks,
Lyres,
Flipper,
Juan Atkins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dual Sessions,
Technova,
Gerry Rafferty,
Judy Mowatt,
The Last Poets,
Ultravox,
Joensuu 1685,
DNA,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Doors,
Oneida,
Half Japanese,
Harry Pussy,
AZ,
Dorothy Ashby,
Youth Brigade,
Deadbeat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fat Boys,
The Kinks,
The Seeds,
Delta 5,
Chris Corsano,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Janne Schatter,
Minor Threat,
Country Teasers,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.