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 Luxembourg and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Underground Resistance to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Blossom Toes,
Mo-Dettes,
Porter Ricks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yusef Lateef,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Surgeon,
Cheater Slicks,
Rapeman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gun Club,
Kerrie Biddell,
Youth Brigade,
Make Up,
Erykah Badu,
Accadde A,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fuzztones,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slits,
Spandau Ballet,
Ronnie Foster,
Connie Case,
The Searchers,
10cc,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arcadia,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Victims,
Yaz,
Khruangbin,
Eddi Front,
The Tremeloes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cal Tjader,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Todd Rundgren,
Gong,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ituana,
Idris Muhammad,
Inner City,
Model 500,
The Smiths,
Mark Hollis,
Stereo Dub,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scion,
Fear,
Second Layer,
The Black Dice,
Pole,
Oneida,
Soft Machine,
Icehouse,
The Gories,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.