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 Syria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron 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 Shuggie Otis to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Fear,
The Blackbyrds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hoover,
Procol Harum,
Rekid,
the Slits,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jeff Lynne,
Marmalade,
Bobby Womack,
Intrusion,
Lalann,
Khruangbin,
Electric Prunes,
Soulsonic Force,
Public Enemy,
Cybotron,
Skarface,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Warren Ellis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Buzzcocks,
Pantaleimon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alison Limerick,
Don Cherry,
Robert Wyatt,
the Sonics,
Funkadelic,
Anthony Braxton,
Morten Harket,
R.M.O.,
Excepter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Whodini,
Freddie Wadling,
Nirvana,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Los Fastidios,
The Gun Club,
Tubeway Army,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
the Swans,
Severed Heads,
a-ha,
Soft Cell,
JFA,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Busters,
Derrick May,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gong,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deadbeat,
The Music Machine,
UT,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.