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 Kiribati and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the jazz 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Charles Mingus,
Duran Duran,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Starr,
The Durutti Column,
Arab on Radar,
Shuggie Otis,
Tom Boy,
Eurythmics,
Can,
The Remains,
The Kinks,
The Dead C,
Reuben Wilson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Moleskins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tubeway Army,
Fugazi,
Derrick May,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Mojo Men,
Zero Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
La Düsseldorf,
Hot Snakes,
ABC,
The Blues Magoos,
Clear Light,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mary Jane Girls,
Man Parrish,
Graham Central Station,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roger Hodgson,
Negative Approach,
Josef K,
Surgeon,
The Gladiators,
The J.B.'s,
Underground Resistance,
Sugar Minott,
The Litter,
Connie Case,
Gong,
Kayak,
T. Rex,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Foxx,
Moss Icon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.