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 Nepal and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 The Monks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
KRS-One,
X-Ray Spex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
The Vogues,
The Invisible,
The Mummies,
The Cowsills,
Tomorrow,
The Buckinghams,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sam Rivers,
Section 25,
Tim Buckley,
The Cramps,
Make Up,
Urselle,
Parry Music,
Moby Grape,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aaron Thompson,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Lydon,
Thee Headcoats,
Funky Four + One,
Chris Corsano,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Hood,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pierre Henry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gabor Szabo,
Chrome,
Black Flag,
Pagans,
The Grass Roots,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Arcadia,
Electric Prunes,
Scientists,
Suburban Knight,
Porter Ricks,
Boz Scaggs,
Oneida,
DJ Style,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Electric Prunes,
Subhumans,
Lightning Bolt,
Amon Düül II,
Scott Walker,
Royal Trux,
Radiohead,
Sällskapet,
Alice Coltrane,
Accadde A,
The Zeros,
Crime,
Flash Fearless,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.