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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 T. Rex to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Maurizio,
Newcleus,
Scan 7,
Buzzcocks,
The Invisible,
Sällskapet,
The Count Five,
The Busters,
Jandek,
Lyres,
Dennis Brown,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fad Gadget,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Divine Comedy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Don Cherry,
Jacob Miller,
John Holt,
Bill Near,
Metal Thangz,
The Selecter,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Unwound,
John Foxx,
The Offenders,
Excepter,
Slick Rick,
Oblivians,
Wings,
Peter and Kerry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lalann,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Buckinghams,
Dead Boys,
The Vogues,
Mission of Burma,
Camouflage,
Glenn Branca,
Schoolly D,
Khruangbin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Con Funk Shun,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Doors,
Juan Atkins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Q and Not U,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nils Olav,
Cybotron,
Index,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jerry's Kids,
John Cale,
Magazine,
Joy Division,
the Germs,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.