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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Country Teasers to the electroclash 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Howard Jones,
Ultravox,
Wasted Youth,
Franke,
Magma,
Connie Case,
Scan 7,
Bang On A Can,
Neil Young,
Black Sheep,
The Five Americans,
Banda Bassotti,
Bill Wells,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lindisfarne,
Moss Icon,
Section 25,
Fugazi,
Kerri Chandler,
The Standells,
The Leaves,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tommy Roe,
Newcleus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Parry Music,
Ossler,
Lalann,
the Slits,
X-101,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Minutemen,
The Sonics,
Bobby Sherman,
The Slackers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Talk Talk,
Cymande,
The Moody Blues,
kango's stein massive,
Gong,
Robert Hood,
Kas Product,
The Fortunes,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Womack,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pere Ubu,
Zapp,
The Moleskins,
Los Fastidios,
Stiv Bators,
Royal Trux,
Suburban Knight,
Terrestrial Tones,
The J.B.'s,
Silicon Teens,
Dave Gahan,
Eric Dolphy,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.