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 Suriname and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Visage to the grime 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Cal Tjader,
Archie Shepp,
Black Moon,
Albert Ayler,
PIL,
Sight & Sound,
The Zeros,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yusef Lateef,
Jacques Brel,
Flash Fearless,
Malaria!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Christie,
Qualms,
Warsaw,
Eric Copeland,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Byrd,
World's Most,
These Immortal Souls,
Yellowson,
Lyres,
Pulsallama,
The Names,
Khruangbin,
Porter Ricks,
Theoretical Girls,
Soft Machine,
Arcadia,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tubeway Army,
Stereo Dub,
Jandek,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Green,
Reuben Wilson,
Leonard Cohen,
Supertramp,
The Happenings,
The Human League,
Barrington Levy,
Slave,
Harmonia,
Vainqueur,
Scratch Acid,
Smog,
Niagra,
B.T. Express,
Kenny Larkin,
AZ,
Pere Ubu,
D'Angelo,
Gong,
Easy Going,
Boz Scaggs,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.