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 Laos and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Au Pairs to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Bush Tetras,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Young Rascals,
Oneida,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Television,
Man Eating Sloth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rapeman,
Blossom Toes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Star Department,
Joensuu 1685,
Andrew Hill,
Siglo XX,
Heaven 17,
Y Pants,
The Blues Magoos,
Fad Gadget,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Smoke,
Pulsallama,
Surgeon,
The Raincoats,
Bronski Beat,
Gabor Szabo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Sherman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Selecter,
Deadbeat,
DJ Sneak,
Amon Düül,
Marvin Gaye,
The Monks,
Eric Dolphy,
Basic Channel,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lightning Bolt,
Piero Umiliani,
Eden Ahbez,
Dorothy Ashby,
48th St. Collective,
The Names,
Black Pus,
Pierre Henry,
Mr. Review,
The Associates,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mad Mike,
Wasted Youth,
Anakelly,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Happenings,
Drexciya,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.