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 Egypt and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Donald Fagen 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 Lucky Dragons to the rap 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DJ Style,
Desert Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Neu!,
Scientists,
Echospace,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Boredoms,
The Standells,
X-101,
Sandy B,
Quantec,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Soft Cell,
Robert Görl,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
David Bowie,
Tommy Roe,
Steve Hackett,
The Golliwogs,
Fluxion,
Buzzcocks,
Andrew Hill,
Iggy Pop,
Angry Samoans,
The Black Dice,
48th St. Collective,
Silicon Teens,
Brass Construction,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Circle Jerks,
Pylon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang Green,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Bananas,
Alton Ellis,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grauzone,
Nas,
Guru Guru,
The Trojans,
Sex Pistols,
FM Einheit,
The Residents,
Stereo Dub,
Camberwell Now,
The Victims,
The Selecter,
Kerri Chandler,
Don Cherry,
Bill Wells,
the Soft Cell,
EPMD,
Jandek,
Slave,
Archie Shepp,
The Names,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.