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 Honduras and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fela Kuti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grandmaster Flash,
China Crisis,
The Fall,
The Litter,
In Retrospect,
Frankie Knuckles,
Amon Düül II,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Misunderstood,
Easy Going,
10cc,
Mark Hollis,
Sarah Menescal,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bad Manners,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Zapp,
Excepter,
The Electric Prunes,
Scrapy,
Matthew Halsall,
8 Eyed Spy,
Niagra,
Mad Mike,
Ken Boothe,
The Standells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mandrill,
Slick Rick,
Eli Mardock,
Spandau Ballet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Maurizio,
The Gladiators,
Ossler,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Tremeloes,
The Gap Band,
the Bar-Kays,
New York Dolls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Don Cherry,
Barclay James Harvest,
Piero Umiliani,
Morten Harket,
Youth Brigade,
The Kinks,
The Monochrome Set,
Shoche,
Agent Orange,
Marc Almond,
Lou Christie,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lightning Bolt,
Terrestrial Tones,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.