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 Liberia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Panda Bear,
Scrapy,
Siglo XX,
Supertramp,
The Human League,
Scan 7,
Adolescents,
Radiohead,
Stockholm Monsters,
Clear Light,
Kevin Saunderson,
Albert Ayler,
Black Sheep,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Porter Ricks,
X-102,
John Foxx,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Isaac Hayes,
Barrington Levy,
Skaos,
Amon Düül,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harry Pussy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mark Hollis,
T. Rex,
Wally Richardson,
Country Teasers,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cure,
Zapp,
Nirvana,
Shuggie Otis,
Outsiders,
Brick,
T.S.O.L.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cybotron,
Thee Headcoats,
La Düsseldorf,
Charles Mingus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pussy Galore,
Malaria!,
The Star Department,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Evens,
Judy Mowatt,
Interpol,
Faust,
Television Personalities,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jacques Brel,
Fat Boys,
Gichy Dan,
K-Klass,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.