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 Guinea and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 United States of America to the grunge 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Eric Copeland,
Sun City Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Sheep,
Jeru the Damaja,
Girls At Our Best!,
Camouflage,
Talk Talk,
The Stooges,
David Bowie,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Steve Hackett,
Dave Gahan,
Laurel Aitken,
Pulsallama,
Unwound,
John Cale,
Vainqueur,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Popol Vuh,
Robert Wyatt,
Pantaleimon,
The Walker Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
New Age Steppers,
Skriet,
cv313,
Sun Ra,
Sister Nancy,
The Last Poets,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Real Kids,
Soulsonic Force,
Arcadia,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultravox,
Das Ding,
Reuben Wilson,
Eli Mardock,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Faraquet,
Sonic Youth,
Gang of Four,
Scratch Acid,
Blake Baxter,
Technova,
Joe Smooth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Colin Newman,
E-Dancer,
The Fall,
Grey Daturas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wasted Youth,
CMW,
Robert Görl,
U.S. Maple,
Brothers Johnson,
Rosa Yemen,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.