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 Belarus and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mr. Review to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Man Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Barrington Levy,
Archie Shepp,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eli Mardock,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Radiohead,
Funkadelic,
DNA,
Malaria!,
Desert Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
Dead Boys,
John Foxx,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeff Lynne,
Yaz,
The Divine Comedy,
New Order,
Chris Corsano,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Sherman,
The New Christs,
Magazine,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Index,
Television,
The Cosmic Jokers,
F. McDonald,
Amazonics,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Hood,
John Cale,
Barclay James Harvest,
kango's stein massive,
Kerri Chandler,
Oblivians,
Rhythm & Sound,
Howard Jones,
The Residents,
Theoretical Girls,
The Smoke,
Sarah Menescal,
Lindisfarne,
Scratch Acid,
Pierre Henry,
Make Up,
The Pop Group,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter and Kerry,
Funky Four + One,
X-102,
Gang of Four,
In Retrospect,
Bill Near,
Bizarre Inc.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.