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 Tuvalu and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Flesh Eaters to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Thee Headcoats,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Electric Prunes,
Rites of Spring,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Zeros,
Black Bananas,
Prince Buster,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rakim,
Quantec,
L. Decosne,
Todd Terry,
Susan Cadogan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Move,
Model 500,
Josef K,
The Fall,
The Sound,
Chris & Cosey,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Invisible,
The Gories,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Pretty Things,
Crash Course in Science,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Womack,
The Slits,
Pylon,
The Fuzztones,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun Ra,
Supertramp,
Eli Mardock,
The Litter,
Harmonia,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Hood,
Ultravox,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Warren Ellis,
Jacob Miller,
FM Einheit,
Colin Newman,
The Neon Judgement,
The American Breed,
Country Teasers,
Gang Green,
Sparks,
Delon & Dalcan,
F. McDonald,
Kevin Saunderson,
T. Rex,
Minnie Riperton,
Circle Jerks,
Tim Buckley,
Aural Exciters,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.