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 Malawi and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Deepchord to the grime 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Dark Day,
The Human League,
Pussy Galore,
Severed Heads,
The Trojans,
Sonic Youth,
World's Most,
Talk Talk,
The United States of America,
The Toasters,
Scott Walker,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jerry's Kids,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gang of Four,
Interpol,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Royal Trux,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Erasure,
The Wake,
Cheater Slicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
Intrusion,
Bluetip,
The Fall,
The Misunderstood,
The Star Department,
Tropical Tobacco,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Liliput,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
Howard Jones,
Eddi Front,
James White and The Blacks,
Qualms,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Buzzcocks,
Piero Umiliani,
The Monks,
Fela Kuti,
Maurizio,
Babytalk,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eden Ahbez,
The Monochrome Set,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joyce Sims,
Radiohead,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare,
The Sonics,
Sparks,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.