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 Guinea and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
The Fortunes,
Barry Ungar,
Warsaw,
Sun City Girls,
Flipper,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Yaz,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sun Ra,
Ken Boothe,
Minor Threat,
The Vogues,
Chrome,
Colin Newman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Arthur Verocai,
Youth Brigade,
Matthew Bourne,
Mr. Review,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Simply Red,
Wasted Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gabor Szabo,
Aaron Thompson,
Aural Exciters,
Joe Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
Deakin,
UT,
Scan 7,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Pop Group,
Ohio Players,
Wolf Eyes,
Stetsasonic,
Camouflage,
John Cale,
Sight & Sound,
Sugar Minott,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rosa Yemen,
Crooked Eye,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kurtis Blow,
Moss Icon,
The Motions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Subhumans,
Saccharine Trust,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Human League,
Gang of Four,
Sonic Youth,
Charles Mingus,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.