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 St Lucia and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 the Bar-Kays to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
the Slits,
These Immortal Souls,
Los Fastidios,
Icehouse,
In Retrospect,
The Vogues,
The Invisible,
L. Decosne,
Quadrant,
Todd Rundgren,
Agitation Free,
Ossler,
Depeche Mode,
Warsaw,
Grauzone,
Basic Channel,
Gang of Four,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crooked Eye,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dawn Penn,
Khruangbin,
Terry Callier,
Connie Case,
Quando Quango,
The Gap Band,
Nils Olav,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Moby Grape,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Robert Hood,
Wally Richardson,
Loose Ends,
Arthur Verocai,
X-Ray Spex,
Judy Mowatt,
Cybotron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Josef K,
Absolute Body Control,
The Evens,
Thompson Twins,
The Happenings,
Rakim,
Marine Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
Shoche,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Interpol,
B.T. Express,
The Fire Engines,
Liliput,
Simply Red,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Cowsills,
Terrestrial Tones,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.