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 Greece and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the funk 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare,
MC5,
Roxy Music,
Absolute Body Control,
Supertramp,
The Mojo Men,
Animal Collective,
Harmonia,
Junior Murvin,
Y Pants,
The Standells,
Panda Bear,
Trumans Water,
The Human League,
Qualms,
Silicon Teens,
Pere Ubu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Easy Going,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Groovy Waters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scan 7,
John Lydon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soulsonic Force,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Kinks,
The New Christs,
Bill Near,
In Retrospect,
The Knickerbockers,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Vladislav Delay,
Al Stewart,
Albert Ayler,
The Sonics,
Sugar Minott,
The Mummies,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Quando Quango,
Alphaville,
Lakeside,
The Velvet Underground,
Crooked Eye,
Prince Buster,
Minutemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mr. Review,
Soft Cell,
Mission of Burma,
Monks,
Boredoms,
The Raincoats,
Steve Hackett,
Index,
Rekid,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.