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 Romania and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Zapp to the funk 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Main Source,
the Association,
Freddie Wadling,
Jerry's Kids,
Pagans,
John Cale,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Underground Resistance,
Whodini,
Alice Coltrane,
Sarah Menescal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Unwound,
Severed Heads,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
CMW,
kango's stein massive,
Siglo XX,
X-Ray Spex,
The Stooges,
Morten Harket,
The Doors,
DNA,
Jeff Lynne,
Bauhaus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liliput,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Slave,
Fad Gadget,
The Moody Blues,
the Slits,
Faust,
Henry Cow,
Tres Demented,
John Coltrane,
Yaz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Neu!,
Brothers Johnson,
DJ Style,
Wally Richardson,
Electric Prunes,
Rapeman,
Camberwell Now,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Holt,
Chris Corsano,
Robert Görl,
Icehouse,
Boogie Down Productions,
These Immortal Souls,
David Axelrod,
Aaron Thompson,
Susan Cadogan,
Lalann,
Blake Baxter,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.