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 Turkey and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 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 Icehouse to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
the Sonics,
Wasted Youth,
Agent Orange,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric Dolphy,
The Gladiators,
Robert Hood,
Idris Muhammad,
DJ Style,
The Barracudas,
New Order,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Motorama,
Gang of Four,
Mission of Burma,
Derrick Morgan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pantaleimon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Juan Atkins,
These Immortal Souls,
Average White Band,
This Heat,
Franke,
Flash Fearless,
Swell Maps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Mojo Men,
Skaos,
Camouflage,
Clear Light,
The Offenders,
Soulsonic Force,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hardrive,
Sandy B,
The Cure,
Ohio Players,
Derrick May,
The Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Flag,
Public Enemy,
Ronnie Foster,
Dave Gahan,
Angry Samoans,
Soft Cell,
Pierre Henry,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slackers,
ABBA,
Ossler,
Spandau Ballet,
The Electric Prunes,
U.S. Maple,
The Litter,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.