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 Monaco and from Taipei.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord 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 The Leaves to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
Drexciya,
the Sonics,
Bang On A Can,
James White and The Blacks,
The Young Rascals,
PIL,
Ultra Naté,
The Count Five,
Sex Pistols,
Sun City Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
X-102,
Lou Reed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David Bowie,
Swell Maps,
Supertramp,
Monolake,
The United States of America,
Black Flag,
The Wake,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nirvana,
Sixth Finger,
Nick Fraelich,
Byron Stingily,
Amazonics,
The Cowsills,
JFA,
Shoche,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Henry Cow,
The Blackbyrds,
Bootsy Collins,
The Beau Brummels,
Joy Division,
U.S. Maple,
Sexual Harrassment,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moss Icon,
Connie Case,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Zapp,
Absolute Body Control,
Pole,
Los Fastidios,
Eli Mardock,
The Saints,
Gichy Dan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New Age Steppers,
Rakim,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dead Boys,
Talk Talk,
Young Marble Giants,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.