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 Denmark and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro 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 The Moody Blues to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Porter Ricks,
Electric Prunes,
Supertramp,
The Durutti Column,
Index,
Nik Kershaw,
The Red Krayola,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bang On A Can,
Ronnie Foster,
Trumans Water,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Offenders,
Monks,
The United States of America,
The Fugs,
The Remains,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
cv313,
Boredoms,
The Names,
Fela Kuti,
Duran Duran,
Black Bananas,
U.S. Maple,
Cal Tjader,
Arcadia,
Nas,
Intrusion,
Sister Nancy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Sonics,
the Germs,
Fad Gadget,
Tomorrow,
Los Fastidios,
Warren Ellis,
Q and Not U,
Yellowson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pagans,
Cameo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Charles Mingus,
Altered Images,
Byron Stingily,
Amazonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scion,
Pole,
Letta Mbulu,
Joyce Sims,
Theoretical Girls,
Lyres,
Ten City,
Barbara Tucker,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Angry Samoans,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.