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 Paraguay and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Magazine to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
The Gun Club,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marc Almond,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moebius,
KRS-One,
Blancmange,
Isaac Hayes,
Alison Limerick,
Fat Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Model 500,
Roxette,
Ronan,
Rakim,
Black Bananas,
Boz Scaggs,
Radiohead,
Camberwell Now,
Kas Product,
Sight & Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Wolf Eyes,
Rod Modell,
The Blackbyrds,
The Techniques,
Panda Bear,
Cal Tjader,
The Buckinghams,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Real Kids,
Ludus,
Adolescents,
The Busters,
Mo-Dettes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Johnny Clarke,
Parry Music,
The Residents,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Inner City,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New Order,
Y Pants,
Cybotron,
Prince Buster,
Dorothy Ashby,
Andrew Hill,
Susan Cadogan,
Jawbox,
Iggy Pop,
The Dirtbombs,
Erykah Badu,
Theoretical Girls,
John Lydon,
Dual Sessions,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Barracudas,
Slave,
the Swans,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.