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 New Zealand and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
cv313,
Organ,
Popol Vuh,
Procol Harum,
Sonic Youth,
Bang On A Can,
Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sight & Sound,
Patti Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacques Brel,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minutemen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ken Boothe,
The Music Machine,
Byron Stingily,
The Last Poets,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Vainqueur,
Eden Ahbez,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Smog,
The Electric Prunes,
Erykah Badu,
Bush Tetras,
Y Pants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Inner City,
KRS-One,
The Doobie Brothers,
Danielle Patucci,
The Offenders,
Khruangbin,
Hashim,
X-Ray Spex,
Godley & Creme,
Amon Düül II,
Judy Mowatt,
James White and The Blacks,
Mark Hollis,
Eric Dolphy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aaron Thompson,
Franke,
The Skatalites,
Ice-T,
H. Thieme,
The Star Department,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Duran Duran,
Blancmange,
a-ha,
Quadrant,
Cluster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.