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 Afghanistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 Absolute Body Control to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
PIL,
The Electric Prunes,
Fat Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Echospace,
Tears for Fears,
Aswad,
Max Romeo,
U.S. Maple,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Blackbyrds,
Blancmange,
Jawbox,
D'Angelo,
the Association,
Eden Ahbez,
Talk Talk,
The Victims,
Simply Red,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Zeros,
Khruangbin,
Donald Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
Ultravox,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
UT,
Rites of Spring,
The Saints,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Sheep,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dave Clark Five,
Depeche Mode,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Pop Group,
Gang Green,
Dennis Brown,
Excepter,
The Cure,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kaleidoscope,
Patti Smith,
The Golliwogs,
Visage,
Pylon,
Minnie Riperton,
Sonic Youth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Chrome,
The Fire Engines,
Ludus,
Pharoah Sanders,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ronnie Foster,
Metal Thangz,
the Fania All-Stars,
Monolake,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.