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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blake Baxter 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Henry Cow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Funky Four + One,
Grauzone,
Colin Newman,
The Cramps,
Tears for Fears,
Crime,
Joy Division,
Alphaville,
Funkadelic,
Hot Snakes,
Zapp,
Brand Nubian,
Wire,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rites of Spring,
X-102,
MDC,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bang On A Can,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deepchord,
Brass Construction,
Kurtis Blow,
Pet Shop Boys,
Echospace,
Scientists,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Durutti Column,
Rapeman,
Vainqueur,
The Beau Brummels,
Roger Hodgson,
Magma,
Grandmaster Flash,
New Order,
The Sonics,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
a-ha,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jawbox,
Adolescents,
Urselle,
John Cale,
Don Cherry,
The Cowsills,
Jacques Brel,
Joe Smooth,
The Standells,
ABBA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nils Olav,
New York Dolls,
Vladislav Delay,
Rufus Thomas,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeff Lynne,
Marmalade,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.