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 Kyrgyzstan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 the Sonics to the rock 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Mission of Burma,
Hot Snakes,
The Black Dice,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cameo,
Glenn Branca,
Warsaw,
Jeff Mills,
Sister Nancy,
Thee Headcoats,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Charles Mingus,
Avey Tare,
Colin Newman,
Simply Red,
Delon & Dalcan,
Roy Ayers,
The Star Department,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Graham Central Station,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Associates,
Crispy Ambulance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skriet,
Dual Sessions,
The Cramps,
D'Angelo,
Depeche Mode,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gladiators,
Brand Nubian,
Crooked Eye,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Moon,
Panda Bear,
Lightning Bolt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Letta Mbulu,
The Leaves,
Mars,
Black Flag,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ponytail,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Cale,
Marmalade,
Agent Orange,
ABBA,
Kas Product,
Blake Baxter,
Drexciya,
Alice Coltrane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Zero Boys,
Scientists,
The Vogues,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.