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 Libya and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Robert Görl to the rock 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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultra Naté,
Nas,
Scott Walker,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marc Almond,
Buzzcocks,
Sällskapet,
Man Parrish,
Lou Christie,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sex Pistols,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Names,
Bobby Sherman,
Aaron Thompson,
the Bar-Kays,
Boredoms,
The Associates,
Marmalade,
Masters at Work,
Sight & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aswad,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Kinks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Heaven 17,
Skaos,
Albert Ayler,
Hardrive,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare,
Kayak,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
EPMD,
The Litter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Supertramp,
Rosa Yemen,
Model 500,
Parry Music,
Tom Boy,
The Blues Magoos,
X-102,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Divine Comedy,
Smog,
The Monks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
New York Dolls,
Peter and Kerry,
The Zeros,
the Swans,
Drexciya,
Inner City,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.