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 Swaziland and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
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 marimba 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 Fela Kuti to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Franke,
Mission of Burma,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Doors,
Crime,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oblivians,
Buzzcocks,
The Last Poets,
Radiopuhelimet,
Josef K,
Pierre Henry,
Sonic Youth,
Masters at Work,
The Stooges,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Los Fastidios,
Fad Gadget,
Suburban Knight,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Yellowson,
James White and The Blacks,
Dual Sessions,
Tubeway Army,
Charles Mingus,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Sherman,
Peter & Gordon,
the Slits,
Alice Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
Absolute Body Control,
The Pop Group,
the Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
T. Rex,
the Germs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Cale,
The Human League,
Jeff Lynne,
Depeche Mode,
Judy Mowatt,
Goldenarms,
Dead Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
Donald Byrd,
The Neon Judgement,
The Music Machine,
The Fuzztones,
Michelle Simonal,
Funky Four + One,
Mo-Dettes,
Peter and Kerry,
Cybotron,
The Techniques,
The Blues Magoos,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.