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 Senegal and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brick to the grime 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gichy Dan,
Eve St. Jones,
Amon Düül II,
The Durutti Column,
Nils Olav,
Ohio Players,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sound Behaviour,
Urselle,
Bill Wells,
Ultra Naté,
kango's stein massive,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Electric Prunes,
Duran Duran,
Alison Limerick,
Cymande,
Terry Callier,
The Velvet Underground,
Lindisfarne,
The Raincoats,
Ten City,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nik Kershaw,
Tears for Fears,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Evens,
The Zeros,
Max Romeo,
Camberwell Now,
X-102,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
These Immortal Souls,
X-101,
Tommy Roe,
Organ,
Negative Approach,
Donny Hathaway,
Metal Thangz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rites of Spring,
The Monks,
Bluetip,
Panda Bear,
Eric Copeland,
Soft Machine,
Sun Ra,
Sarah Menescal,
Amon Düül,
Steve Hackett,
Rapeman,
Godley & Creme,
Al Stewart,
The Trojans,
Jeff Lynne,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.