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 El Salvador and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Faust to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Depeche Mode,
Wings,
Thompson Twins,
Ken Boothe,
The Fortunes,
the Association,
The Fall,
Flash Fearless,
The Cowsills,
The Last Poets,
New Age Steppers,
The Barracudas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Red Krayola,
Dorothy Ashby,
Laurel Aitken,
The Shadows of Knight,
Japan,
The Young Rascals,
Country Teasers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Liliput,
Archie Shepp,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Alarm Clocks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amazonics,
The Skatalites,
Sound Behaviour,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cybotron,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tomorrow,
Arthur Verocai,
The Angels of Light,
Scott Walker,
Eurythmics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Schoolly D,
The Walker Brothers,
The Wake,
Blancmange,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Soft Cell,
Ossler,
Barclay James Harvest,
Public Image Ltd.,
UT,
Quadrant,
Scratch Acid,
Pere Ubu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobby Byrd,
The Raincoats,
Robert Görl,
Blake Baxter,
Toni Rubio,
The American Breed,
R.M.O.,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.