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 Liberia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Animal Collective to the jazz 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Y Pants,
Jacques Brel,
The Martian,
The J.B.'s,
The Knickerbockers,
The Divine Comedy,
Technova,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pole,
Rosa Yemen,
Carl Craig,
Archie Shepp,
Ohio Players,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
ABBA,
Nik Kershaw,
Minnie Riperton,
Delon & Dalcan,
Donald Byrd,
New Order,
The Count Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-Ray Spex,
John Lydon,
Mad Mike,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Make Up,
Prince Buster,
Royal Trux,
Accadde A,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Procol Harum,
Reagan Youth,
Sex Pistols,
the Germs,
Stiv Bators,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tears for Fears,
The Dirtbombs,
Bob Dylan,
Goldenarms,
Neu!,
Juan Atkins,
Gang Starr,
John Holt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Q and Not U,
Freddie Wadling,
Minutemen,
Derrick Morgan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Toasters,
Sam Rivers,
The Motions,
Buzzcocks,
Gang Green,
K-Klass,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.