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 Portugal and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Names to the grime 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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
The Knickerbockers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nils Olav,
The Searchers,
Tommy Roe,
Faust,
Heaven 17,
Scientists,
Junior Murvin,
Letta Mbulu,
Blake Baxter,
Cameo,
Wasted Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeff Lynne,
Popol Vuh,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fuzztones,
Connie Case,
The Seeds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rosa Yemen,
K-Klass,
Brass Construction,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mark Hollis,
Deepchord,
Roger Hodgson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Aural Exciters,
The Golliwogs,
Sam Rivers,
Bronski Beat,
Fat Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Swans,
Oblivians,
Massinfluence,
The Remains,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Josef K,
Shuggie Otis,
Ituana,
H. Thieme,
Gang of Four,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ludus,
Basic Channel,
Jawbox,
Procol Harum,
Scion,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeff Mills,
Quadrant,
Silicon Teens,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Barracudas,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.