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 Namibia and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Skriet,
Das Ding,
Marmalade,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tubeway Army,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Flag,
Be Bop Deluxe,
B.T. Express,
Theoretical Girls,
Aswad,
Supertramp,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sällskapet,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ponytail,
Connie Case,
Dennis Brown,
James White and The Blacks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Saccharine Trust,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jawbox,
Technova,
Chris Corsano,
The Standells,
Cheater Slicks,
The Leaves,
Rapeman,
Swans,
Hasil Adkins,
Gabor Szabo,
Hardrive,
Janne Schatter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rotary Connection,
Sam Rivers,
Albert Ayler,
The Golliwogs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Litter,
Alison Limerick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Animal Collective,
Yaz,
Joy Division,
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers,
Sixth Finger,
World's Most,
Rod Modell,
Eden Ahbez,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.