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 Micronesia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Marmalade 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ralphi Rosario,
Maleditus Sound,
Monolake,
Todd Rundgren,
Scott Walker,
Altered Images,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bauhaus,
Main Source,
Josef K,
Cymande,
Robert Wyatt,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Human League,
The United States of America,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mojo Men,
Eden Ahbez,
Eve St. Jones,
New York Dolls,
The Dead C,
Malaria!,
Leonard Cohen,
kango's stein massive,
Yellowson,
The Real Kids,
These Immortal Souls,
Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
John Cale,
Jeff Lynne,
Wire,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crime,
China Crisis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Holt,
B.T. Express,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Mills,
Radio Birdman,
Jawbox,
Dual Sessions,
Whodini,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joey Negro,
Black Bananas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Peter and Kerry,
Los Fastidios,
Grauzone,
The Pretty Things,
Thee Headcoats,
Dark Day,
Sight & Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Depeche Mode,
Eddi Front,
Basic Channel,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.