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 Bahrain and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
The Buckinghams,
Sarah Menescal,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The J.B.'s,
Silicon Teens,
MC5,
The Moody Blues,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Move,
Soul II Soul,
Neil Young,
Lungfish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Morten Harket,
Robert Wyatt,
Severed Heads,
Circle Jerks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magma,
T.S.O.L.,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gabor Szabo,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Beau Brummels,
Harry Pussy,
Sonic Youth,
Ronan,
Porter Ricks,
Babytalk,
Tres Demented,
The Raincoats,
Fat Boys,
The Vogues,
Thompson Twins,
Blake Baxter,
Eli Mardock,
Thee Headcoats,
Johnny Clarke,
The Victims,
Dark Day,
Junior Murvin,
The Modern Lovers,
Icehouse,
Second Layer,
Donald Byrd,
Lindisfarne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kurtis Blow,
Essential Logic,
The Smoke,
Outsiders,
Sister Nancy,
Bill Near,
Smog,
Monolake,
Altered Images,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.