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 Equatorial Guinea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 Zero Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Martian,
Rhythm & Sound,
Loose Ends,
Arthur Verocai,
Spoonie Gee,
Severed Heads,
The Fugs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Clear Light,
Drexciya,
Fad Gadget,
Faraquet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Trumans Water,
Ponytail,
Supertramp,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Danielle Patucci,
Stereo Dub,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Byrd,
One Last Wish,
Magma,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Evens,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lower 48,
The Black Dice,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pulsallama,
Ohio Players,
Youth Brigade,
Spandau Ballet,
Yellowson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slave,
Crispy Ambulance,
Al Stewart,
David Bowie,
Roy Ayers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stiv Bators,
T.S.O.L.,
Tommy Roe,
Tres Demented,
Metal Thangz,
Harpers Bizarre,
Accadde A,
The Star Department,
Roxy Music,
Wally Richardson,
Basic Channel,
The Fuzztones,
A Certain Ratio,
Moss Icon,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.