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 Uganda 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Flesh Eaters to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers 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?
Al Stewart,
MC5,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bill Wells,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hot Snakes,
Thee Headcoats,
Minor Threat,
Wings,
Amazonics,
The Divine Comedy,
The Kinks,
Barbara Tucker,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Neil Young,
Average White Band,
Kaleidoscope,
The Associates,
Nas,
Prince Buster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Michelle Simonal,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fear,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
China Crisis,
Fatback Band,
Pantaleimon,
The Pretty Things,
Matthew Bourne,
Brothers Johnson,
The Slackers,
Supertramp,
The Cramps,
The Fall,
Swell Maps,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roxette,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mojo Men,
Alphaville,
Susan Cadogan,
Darondo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
ABC,
The Offenders,
Talk Talk,
Minnie Riperton,
Thompson Twins,
One Last Wish,
The Names,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scan 7,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.