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 Cambodia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 D'Angelo to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Excepter,
The Martian,
Godley & Creme,
New Order,
Hardrive,
Nik Kershaw,
Dorothy Ashby,
Con Funk Shun,
Bill Wells,
Man Parrish,
Skriet,
Sixth Finger,
Joy Division,
La Düsseldorf,
Rosa Yemen,
The Angels of Light,
Mad Mike,
Dark Day,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Neon Judgement,
Peter and Kerry,
Organ,
Warsaw,
The Alarm Clocks,
Michelle Simonal,
The Beau Brummels,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Barracudas,
Wings,
Black Flag,
Skaos,
Josef K,
Deakin,
Letta Mbulu,
Technova,
Theoretical Girls,
Eurythmics,
Rites of Spring,
Icehouse,
EPMD,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zapp,
Magma,
The Skatalites,
The Black Dice,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The New Christs,
Barry Ungar,
Marmalade,
Scrapy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Basic Channel,
John Cale,
ABC,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Matthew Halsall,
Marvin Gaye,
Livin' Joy,
Minutemen,
Magazine,
the Swans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.