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 Lesotho and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Soul II Soul to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Monolake,
Camberwell Now,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aaron Thompson,
The Misunderstood,
Arthur Verocai,
Au Pairs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Faraquet,
Wings,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Foxx,
Country Teasers,
Rotary Connection,
Skarface,
Nik Kershaw,
Harry Pussy,
The Tremeloes,
Ronnie Foster,
Yazoo,
Dennis Brown,
The Invisible,
Visage,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Sherman,
10cc,
Eve St. Jones,
Lyres,
Youth Brigade,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Bananas,
Cybotron,
The Offenders,
The Flesh Eaters,
H. Thieme,
Pulsallama,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Y Pants,
Tim Buckley,
X-102,
Von Mondo,
The Fortunes,
Jerry's Kids,
Maurizio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Toasters,
The Dead C,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Boredoms,
Chris & Cosey,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eli Mardock,
Kayak,
Dorothy Ashby,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Hood,
Delta 5,
Sex Pistols,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.