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 Taiwan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jawbox to the disco 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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Judy Mowatt,
Sam Rivers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Goldenarms,
The Music Machine,
OOIOO,
Arab on Radar,
Moby Grape,
The Kinks,
Donald Byrd,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Arcadia,
Joey Negro,
Magma,
Nico,
the Sonics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Holt,
KRS-One,
Neu!,
The Standells,
Von Mondo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
L. Decosne,
X-101,
Crispian St. Peters,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fall,
Letta Mbulu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Bananas,
Eve St. Jones,
Pantytec,
Ludus,
Average White Band,
Graham Central Station,
Sight & Sound,
Outsiders,
Minor Threat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Procol Harum,
E-Dancer,
The Divine Comedy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mr. Review,
Frankie Knuckles,
Organ,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
JFA,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The American Breed,
Bush Tetras,
The Count Five,
Neil Young,
The Grass Roots,
The Cowsills,
Jeff Mills,
Leonard Cohen,
The Names,
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.