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 Bangladesh and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blues Magoos to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
The Tremeloes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Camouflage,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The J.B.'s,
Arab on Radar,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Icehouse,
Nick Fraelich,
Peter & Gordon,
Junior Murvin,
Erykah Badu,
John Lydon,
Kenny Larkin,
Sam Rivers,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun City Girls,
Echospace,
Jeff Lynne,
The Red Krayola,
the Slits,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fatback Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Amon Düül II,
The Real Kids,
The Velvet Underground,
The Saints,
The Victims,
Stiv Bators,
Rufus Thomas,
Index,
Chris Corsano,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gun Club,
Bronski Beat,
The Searchers,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cramps,
Josef K,
the Association,
Model 500,
Jandek,
Monolake,
Scott Walker,
Smog,
Fluxion,
The Durutti Column,
Ituana,
Franke,
Q65,
Yusef Lateef,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harry Pussy,
The Neon Judgement,
The Five Americans,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.