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 Congo and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 OOIOO to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
X-102,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Martian,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harry Pussy,
Black Flag,
B.T. Express,
Joe Finger,
F. McDonald,
Grey Daturas,
Pierre Henry,
Sugar Minott,
Rosa Yemen,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lucky Dragons,
Rapeman,
Circle Jerks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
This Heat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Qualms,
Half Japanese,
Livin' Joy,
Prince Buster,
Bad Manners,
The Gun Club,
The Blues Magoos,
Donald Byrd,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dual Sessions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quadrant,
Cluster,
Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Marvin Gaye,
The Sonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jacques Brel,
The New Christs,
Ultravox,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Litter,
Lou Christie,
Ten City,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fugazi,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Selecter,
The Fuzztones,
Audionom,
Average White Band,
Wally Richardson,
Moby Grape,
Letta Mbulu,
Model 500,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.