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 Congo and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
The Searchers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marmalade,
Dark Day,
Eve St. Jones,
H. Thieme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pere Ubu,
Wally Richardson,
Ultravox,
Joyce Sims,
The Doors,
Whodini,
Lou Christie,
Idris Muhammad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Raincoats,
Roger Hodgson,
The Angels of Light,
Cabaret Voltaire,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lyres,
DNA,
Roy Ayers,
Yaz,
Wings,
Gang of Four,
The Mojo Men,
Con Funk Shun,
Sandy B,
Kas Product,
Graham Central Station,
David McCallum,
Ronnie Foster,
Iggy Pop,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pierre Henry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Count Five,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Young Marble Giants,
Funkadelic,
Funky Four + One,
Kerri Chandler,
The Victims,
Andrew Hill,
John Holt,
Hoover,
Main Source,
Dorothy Ashby,
Can,
The Vogues,
MDC,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Womack,
Television,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The United States of America,
The Fall,
Lightning Bolt,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.