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 Antigua and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Donald Fagen 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 H. Thieme to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Dave Gahan,
Simply Red,
The Martian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alphaville,
Lungfish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bob Dylan,
Wolf Eyes,
The Motions,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Moleskins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Barbara Tucker,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harry Pussy,
Fad Gadget,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Bar-Kays,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Hood,
Trumans Water,
The Gories,
Eric Dolphy,
Letta Mbulu,
Fugazi,
DJ Style,
Boz Scaggs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Whodini,
Jeff Lynne,
Buzzcocks,
Ultra Naté,
The Residents,
Altered Images,
Lakeside,
Spoonie Gee,
Janne Schatter,
Panda Bear,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Pop Group,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Green,
David Bowie,
Agent Orange,
Malaria!,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Depeche Mode,
The Searchers,
The United States of America,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ken Boothe,
Sällskapet,
The Victims,
Junior Murvin,
Parry Music,
Shuggie Otis,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.