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 Ecuador and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Man Eating Sloth to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Metal Thangz,
Blake Baxter,
The Fortunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Names,
La Düsseldorf,
Camberwell Now,
Jeff Lynne,
Nick Fraelich,
Electric Prunes,
Drive Like Jehu,
10cc,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Neu!,
Smog,
Archie Shepp,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Slave,
Jesper Dahlback,
Yusef Lateef,
Susan Cadogan,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Sherman,
Yazoo,
Robert Wyatt,
The Saints,
Lyres,
Soft Machine,
Spoonie Gee,
Lungfish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crooked Eye,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pierre Henry,
Nirvana,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Royal Trux,
Eden Ahbez,
Michelle Simonal,
Byron Stingily,
Heaven 17,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jawbox,
Pussy Galore,
Ultravox,
The Dirtbombs,
The Happenings,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Hood,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skriet,
Piero Umiliani,
Blancmange,
Don Cherry,
Idris Muhammad,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Flash Fearless,
Donald Byrd,
David Axelrod,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.