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 Korea South and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord 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 B.T. Express to the disco 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Colin Newman,
Judy Mowatt,
Ken Boothe,
Aaron Thompson,
Bauhaus,
Scion,
Sandy B,
Smog,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Audionom,
Kaleidoscope,
Flamin' Groovies,
kango's stein massive,
Roger Hodgson,
Procol Harum,
The Grass Roots,
Fatback Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Excepter,
a-ha,
Nik Kershaw,
Bush Tetras,
Das Ding,
Black Sheep,
The Human League,
LL Cool J,
Sam Rivers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siglo XX,
Lalann,
James White and The Blacks,
Barbara Tucker,
The Sonics,
The American Breed,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quando Quango,
Marc Almond,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marine Girls,
Japan,
Soft Cell,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Bananas,
David Bowie,
Bootsy Collins,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Byrd,
The Skatalites,
Skriet,
Sun Ra,
Franke,
Moby Grape,
Scrapy,
Amon Düül II,
Crime,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.