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 Poland and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Robert Palmer 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 funk 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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
The Young Rascals,
T. Rex,
Nirvana,
CMW,
Electric Prunes,
cv313,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Remains,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Anthony Braxton,
Niagra,
Sister Nancy,
Dennis Brown,
The Angels of Light,
Gang of Four,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Idris Muhammad,
Alice Coltrane,
The Sound,
Television Personalities,
Henry Cow,
DNA,
Faraquet,
Alphaville,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Max Romeo,
Quando Quango,
Ponytail,
Fluxion,
Prince Buster,
Essential Logic,
Q and Not U,
Smog,
Maleditus Sound,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Buckinghams,
DJ Style,
10cc,
Jawbox,
The Durutti Column,
Popol Vuh,
The Star Department,
Lucky Dragons,
Juan Atkins,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Slits,
Fat Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bronski Beat,
Minny Pops,
Cymande,
Gregory Isaacs,
Technova,
Theoretical Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angry Samoans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Five Americans,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.