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 Vanuatu and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer 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 Chris & Cosey to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Banda Bassotti,
Pet Shop Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
The Beau Brummels,
The Mummies,
E-Dancer,
Delta 5,
Dawn Penn,
John Cale,
Jeff Lynne,
Sugar Minott,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bad Manners,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Slits,
Yazoo,
The Monochrome Set,
Soulsonic Force,
Faraquet,
Traffic Nightmare,
R.M.O.,
Second Layer,
Sam Rivers,
The United States of America,
Avey Tare,
Bush Tetras,
ABC,
Peter & Gordon,
Pere Ubu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Model 500,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Wake,
Joensuu 1685,
Suicide,
Glenn Branca,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dave Clark Five,
Outsiders,
Youth Brigade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Moon,
Sparks,
Minnie Riperton,
Bluetip,
New Order,
Oneida,
Rod Modell,
The New Christs,
The Angels of Light,
Warsaw,
Metal Thangz,
The Monks,
Lalann,
Josef K,
Moebius,
Massinfluence,
Procol Harum,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.