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 Montenegro and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Joe Finger to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
The Mummies,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aaron Thompson,
Japan,
Donald Byrd,
Danielle Patucci,
Bauhaus,
The Cure,
Blancmange,
Terrestrial Tones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pierre Henry,
Yusef Lateef,
B.T. Express,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sam Rivers,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Altered Images,
Shoche,
Magazine,
John Holt,
The Cowsills,
Max Romeo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cameo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Bananas,
Kas Product,
Pantaleimon,
The Busters,
Royal Trux,
Steve Hackett,
John Lydon,
Jeff Lynne,
Surgeon,
Eve St. Jones,
Y Pants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hoover,
Barbara Tucker,
Rites of Spring,
LL Cool J,
New Age Steppers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soulsonic Force,
The Real Kids,
Sandy B,
Kurtis Blow,
Q65,
Johnny Clarke,
Harpers Bizarre,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fuzztones,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wire,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Bar-Kays,
John Cale,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.