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 Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator 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 The Toasters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
The Remains,
The Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
Quantec,
Aloha Tigers,
The Offenders,
Joey Negro,
Rekid,
Skriet,
Goldenarms,
OOIOO,
Banda Bassotti,
Easy Going,
The Fall,
Fear,
Aaron Thompson,
Camouflage,
X-Ray Spex,
The Barracudas,
Steve Hackett,
Jerry's Kids,
The Searchers,
Suburban Knight,
Tim Buckley,
Al Stewart,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fortunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Swans,
the Germs,
The United States of America,
The Tremeloes,
The Star Department,
Half Japanese,
Dave Gahan,
Arab on Radar,
Pole,
Fela Kuti,
The Selecter,
Moebius,
The Cramps,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Near,
Gerry Rafferty,
Andrew Hill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sexual Harrassment,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sun City Girls,
The Shadows of Knight,
H. Thieme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Neu!,
X-102,
KRS-One,
Liliput,
The Pop Group,
Crime,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.