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 Hungary and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin 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 H. Thieme to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
the Germs,
Lou Christie,
Stockholm Monsters,
Max Romeo,
The Leaves,
Minor Threat,
Dennis Brown,
Joe Finger,
Howard Jones,
Shoche,
Minnie Riperton,
Buzzcocks,
John Foxx,
Youth Brigade,
Spoonie Gee,
Television Personalities,
Trumans Water,
Joey Negro,
Soft Cell,
The Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lakeside,
The Residents,
Brick,
The Smiths,
Quantec,
Monolake,
Royal Trux,
Terrestrial Tones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brass Construction,
Juan Atkins,
DJ Sneak,
Saccharine Trust,
David Axelrod,
Hashim,
U.S. Maple,
The Index,
Erasure,
Sun City Girls,
Harmonia,
Zero Boys,
The Move,
Vainqueur,
Ohio Players,
Blancmange,
ABC,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camberwell Now,
The Saints,
Isaac Hayes,
X-101,
Dual Sessions,
Crash Course in Science,
KRS-One,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Loose Ends,
Eric Dolphy,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.