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 Senegal and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ludus to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '80s.
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 A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Iggy Pop,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Glenn Branca,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lungfish,
Television Personalities,
the Swans,
Davy DMX,
Public Enemy,
Arab on Radar,
Robert Wyatt,
Kevin Saunderson,
K-Klass,
Anthony Braxton,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rekid,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Parry Music,
The Gories,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pantytec,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dirtbombs,
Delta 5,
Organ,
Sam Rivers,
Harmonia,
Wally Richardson,
Malaria!,
Ten City,
Marine Girls,
Schoolly D,
Brand Nubian,
MC5,
Smog,
Nas,
Hashim,
Sarah Menescal,
The Mojo Men,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Pretty Things,
the Human League,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Absolute Body Control,
Goldenarms,
MDC,
Juan Atkins,
Grey Daturas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Byron Stingily,
Vainqueur,
Porter Ricks,
Lucky Dragons,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.