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 Ireland and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ossler to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Glenn Branca,
The Modern Lovers,
Pantaleimon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lucky Dragons,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fortunes,
Symarip,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Evens,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Camberwell Now,
The Music Machine,
Cluster,
Tears for Fears,
Big Daddy Kane,
Monks,
B.T. Express,
Frankie Knuckles,
Underground Resistance,
The Dead C,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mars,
The Tremeloes,
June Days,
Q and Not U,
Country Teasers,
Groovy Waters,
Black Moon,
Bluetip,
The Shadows of Knight,
Byron Stingily,
Qualms,
Gabor Szabo,
Neil Young,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rufus Thomas,
Hardrive,
Cecil Taylor,
Althea and Donna,
Parry Music,
The Index,
Stockholm Monsters,
Chris Corsano,
Grandmaster Flash,
Television,
Henry Cow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
ABC,
Soulsonic Force,
Isaac Hayes,
Lindisfarne,
The Wake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Duran Duran,
Jacob Miller,
The Techniques,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.