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 Greece and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kurtis Blow 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Bill Near,
Stetsasonic,
Pantaleimon,
Blancmange,
Absolute Body Control,
Hardrive,
Fear,
The Dead C,
Yaz,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Spoonie Gee,
Brick,
The Blues Magoos,
The Tremeloes,
Soft Cell,
Metal Thangz,
Icehouse,
Jawbox,
The Pretty Things,
Nas,
David McCallum,
Matthew Halsall,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Traffic Nightmare,
Guru Guru,
Animal Collective,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kaleidoscope,
Cybotron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Remains,
Khruangbin,
The Monks,
Tears for Fears,
In Retrospect,
Jeff Mills,
Pylon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mummies,
Derrick May,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The United States of America,
DJ Sneak,
Duran Duran,
Dennis Brown,
a-ha,
Sound Behaviour,
Glenn Branca,
A Certain Ratio,
T.S.O.L.,
Johnny Clarke,
10cc,
Faraquet,
B.T. Express,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Womack,
The Standells,
Pussy Galore,
Dorothy Ashby,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.