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 Germany and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Monolake to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Morten Harket,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tears for Fears,
Kayak,
Mo-Dettes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quantec,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Animal Collective,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Skaos,
Anakelly,
Rites of Spring,
Warren Ellis,
Parry Music,
Derrick May,
Nirvana,
Underground Resistance,
Prince Buster,
Aloha Tigers,
Dead Boys,
Eddi Front,
Rod Modell,
Fear,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
DJ Sneak,
The Golliwogs,
Sarah Menescal,
New York Dolls,
Thompson Twins,
Bang On A Can,
The Angels of Light,
Erasure,
The Smoke,
Lou Christie,
Moebius,
Deakin,
Al Stewart,
Cheater Slicks,
H. Thieme,
Howard Jones,
Stetsasonic,
Grauzone,
Harry Pussy,
Depeche Mode,
Scrapy,
Marvin Gaye,
Althea and Donna,
Quando Quango,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Sheep,
the Swans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Schoolly D,
Sexual Harrassment,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.