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 Korea South and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Buckinghams to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Rufus Thomas,
The Names,
The Beau Brummels,
Graham Central Station,
The Golliwogs,
Avey Tare,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deepchord,
Scratch Acid,
Deadbeat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Moebius,
Young Marble Giants,
Rotary Connection,
Andrew Hill,
The Mojo Men,
MC5,
Bronski Beat,
Trumans Water,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Goldenarms,
Wings,
Nik Kershaw,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roxy Music,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mark Hollis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Althea and Donna,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Byrd,
Panda Bear,
Motorama,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Vogues,
Excepter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jacob Miller,
The Litter,
The Fugs,
Cal Tjader,
DJ Sneak,
The Smiths,
Roger Hodgson,
Monolake,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
X-102,
Barbara Tucker,
Mission of Burma,
The Dirtbombs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Skriet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Idris Muhammad,
Grauzone,
Black Pus,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.