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 Zimbabwe and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 These Immortal Souls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Fad Gadget,
Metal Thangz,
Desert Stars,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yaz,
Mars,
Neil Young,
Pet Shop Boys,
Subhumans,
Marvin Gaye,
Arthur Verocai,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Residents,
The Young Rascals,
The Beau Brummels,
Susan Cadogan,
Ituana,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thee Headcoats,
The Toasters,
Excepter,
Fluxion,
MDC,
Gang of Four,
Zapp,
Skarface,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brand Nubian,
Das Ding,
Warsaw,
AZ,
Hot Snakes,
Matthew Halsall,
Easy Going,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Au Pairs,
The Searchers,
Magma,
Visage,
Bobby Womack,
Blancmange,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Motorama,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lindisfarne,
Rekid,
Donald Byrd,
The Misunderstood,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Victims,
Ponytail,
Reagan Youth,
Oneida,
The Dead C,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.