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 South Sudan and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Moebius to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Ultravox,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fela Kuti,
Young Marble Giants,
Howard Jones,
The Toasters,
John Foxx,
Charles Mingus,
Crooked Eye,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dead Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
the Soft Cell,
Circle Jerks,
Roxette,
Minny Pops,
Jerry's Kids,
Aaron Thompson,
The Blues Magoos,
Absolute Body Control,
U.S. Maple,
Drexciya,
Blossom Toes,
Chrome,
Procol Harum,
Half Japanese,
The Barracudas,
Monks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Slackers,
The Modern Lovers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ronnie Foster,
Arab on Radar,
Black Pus,
Camouflage,
Alison Limerick,
Cal Tjader,
Fat Boys,
Pulsallama,
Mission of Burma,
Public Image Ltd.,
Skaos,
Essential Logic,
Radio Birdman,
Reuben Wilson,
Malaria!,
Warsaw,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Womack,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ronan,
MC5,
Spandau Ballet,
Letta Mbulu,
The Offenders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Johnny Clarke,
Agitation Free,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.