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 Benin and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 Little Man to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Tears for Fears,
The Toasters,
Intrusion,
Parry Music,
Charles Mingus,
the Slits,
R.M.O.,
Moebius,
Moss Icon,
Dark Day,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
L. Decosne,
Oneida,
Graham Central Station,
Marcia Griffiths,
Underground Resistance,
Cal Tjader,
Sandy B,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Roy Ayers,
John Cale,
Robert Görl,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Inner City,
Ultimate Spinach,
Skaos,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sister Nancy,
Peter & Gordon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sonic Youth,
Kurtis Blow,
Traffic Nightmare,
Donny Hathaway,
Zero Boys,
Letta Mbulu,
The Associates,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Velvet Underground,
Byron Stingily,
Dorothy Ashby,
T.S.O.L.,
F. McDonald,
PIL,
The Gun Club,
Chris & Cosey,
A Flock of Seagulls,
U.S. Maple,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rod Modell,
UT,
Los Fastidios,
Franke,
Sun Ra,
10cc,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.