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 Bangladesh and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Spandau Ballet 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Mission of Burma,
Minnie Riperton,
Icehouse,
H. Thieme,
John Holt,
The Index,
Eric Copeland,
Von Mondo,
UT,
Nils Olav,
Buzzcocks,
Ultra Naté,
Motorama,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brick,
Scrapy,
Oneida,
Bad Manners,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxy Music,
The Blues Magoos,
a-ha,
The Knickerbockers,
K-Klass,
cv313,
Electric Prunes,
B.T. Express,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wolf Eyes,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Sherman,
10cc,
Gang Green,
Eurythmics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The J.B.'s,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Malaria!,
Steve Hackett,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Derrick Morgan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Skaos,
Clear Light,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Offenders,
the Human League,
Sonic Youth,
Yusef Lateef,
Goldenarms,
Rakim,
John Lydon,
Harry Pussy,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.