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 Nigeria and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba 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 Joy Division to the jazz 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Womack,
Magazine,
Sam Rivers,
Fluxion,
Cheater Slicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
CMW,
Harpers Bizarre,
Popol Vuh,
Moby Grape,
Dark Day,
Mantronix,
Arthur Verocai,
Con Funk Shun,
Blancmange,
Oneida,
Bill Near,
Nick Fraelich,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Reuben Wilson,
The Electric Prunes,
The Names,
Average White Band,
Severed Heads,
The Count Five,
Agitation Free,
John Cale,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Selecter,
Swell Maps,
Ultra Naté,
Country Teasers,
Nik Kershaw,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sex Pistols,
The Buckinghams,
Peter and Kerry,
Altered Images,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Angry Samoans,
Technova,
The Cosmic Jokers,
FM Einheit,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kool Moe Dee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Janne Schatter,
Ituana,
Deadbeat,
Sandy B,
Yellowson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Adolescents,
Rites of Spring,
Guru Guru,
The Raincoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Interpol,
Amon Düül II,
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.