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 Taiwan and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crash Course in Science to the punk 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rod Modell,
The Associates,
Terry Callier,
Mary Jane Girls,
Goldenarms,
Intrusion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Little Man,
Rites of Spring,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Evens,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dirtbombs,
EPMD,
The Blues Magoos,
Scott Walker,
Marcia Griffiths,
Glenn Branca,
Crispy Ambulance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Beau Brummels,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ice-T,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pylon,
June of 44,
Half Japanese,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Animal Collective,
Warsaw,
Jeff Lynne,
Sugar Minott,
Surgeon,
The Velvet Underground,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flash Fearless,
The Flesh Eaters,
Unwound,
Tom Boy,
Trumans Water,
Rakim,
the Slits,
Alphaville,
Bootsy Collins,
In Retrospect,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül II,
Brick,
Kerri Chandler,
Gichy Dan,
Aloha Tigers,
Sex Pistols,
The Mojo Men,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Inner City,
Minny Pops,
Gang Starr,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.