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 Italy and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 The Black Dice to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Ultra Naté,
John Holt,
Albert Ayler,
Zapp,
Joey Negro,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Durutti Column,
The Vogues,
In Retrospect,
Robert Hood,
Sparks,
Desert Stars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lower 48,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Saints,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Drexciya,
Cameo,
Gichy Dan,
Porter Ricks,
Matthew Halsall,
Bluetip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Wake,
Ponytail,
The Leaves,
Negative Approach,
Bad Manners,
Simply Red,
Sandy B,
Severed Heads,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
the Normal,
Skarface,
Symarip,
the Germs,
Model 500,
Echospace,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pole,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Zeros,
The Happenings,
Magma,
the Soft Cell,
Depeche Mode,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ronan,
Swell Maps,
Panda Bear,
The Red Krayola,
Juan Atkins,
The Buckinghams,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.