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 Chile and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 linndrum 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grunge 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Desert Stars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Babytalk,
The Dead C,
The Vogues,
The Fuzztones,
Absolute Body Control,
Fluxion,
Second Layer,
Visage,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bootsy Collins,
David McCallum,
Q and Not U,
Slick Rick,
The Fortunes,
Das Ding,
Susan Cadogan,
Man Parrish,
Dual Sessions,
Eric B and Rakim,
Young Marble Giants,
The Standells,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Swans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
T. Rex,
Index,
Crooked Eye,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nik Kershaw,
Essential Logic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The American Breed,
Wings,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Inner City,
The Stooges,
Niagra,
Crime,
Roy Ayers,
Tim Buckley,
Cameo,
Henry Cow,
Boredoms,
Sun Ra,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Christie,
Suburban Knight,
Buzzcocks,
Joe Finger,
Lee Hazlewood,
Judy Mowatt,
Chrome,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Slits,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.