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 Swaziland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron 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 Idris Muhammad to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Minor Threat,
Robert Wyatt,
Warsaw,
The J.B.'s,
Sparks,
The Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sound,
Roger Hodgson,
Lower 48,
Don Cherry,
Pylon,
Joe Smooth,
Glenn Branca,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Erasure,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Kerri Chandler,
Skaos,
Ornette Coleman,
Popol Vuh,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radiohead,
Nirvana,
Al Stewart,
Monks,
Gang Green,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Arthur Verocai,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yaz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Basic Channel,
Skarface,
Bobbi Humphrey,
One Last Wish,
Agitation Free,
Theoretical Girls,
Oneida,
John Cale,
Public Enemy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bill Wells,
Toni Rubio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Model 500,
Spoonie Gee,
Crooked Eye,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Can,
Alison Limerick,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minutemen,
The Modern Lovers,
Rekid,
Kayak,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.