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 Portugal and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Swell Maps to the crunk 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
UT,
Agent Orange,
The Golliwogs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Green,
Camberwell Now,
Livin' Joy,
Bobby Sherman,
The Pretty Things,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
H. Thieme,
Derrick Morgan,
Glenn Branca,
Piero Umiliani,
Neil Young,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Martian,
The Five Americans,
Sugar Minott,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Christie,
Los Fastidios,
JFA,
Moss Icon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultravox,
Radiohead,
Letta Mbulu,
Blake Baxter,
Eve St. Jones,
Barry Ungar,
Shuggie Otis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moby Grape,
E-Dancer,
Banda Bassotti,
Henry Cow,
Gregory Isaacs,
Morten Harket,
Amon Düül II,
Bobby Byrd,
Hardrive,
Sound Behaviour,
Vladislav Delay,
Scrapy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Isaac Hayes,
Quando Quango,
Bush Tetras,
Ludus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joe Finger,
Marvin Gaye,
Rod Modell,
Masters at Work,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.