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 Yemen and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joe Finger,
Scan 7,
Deepchord,
Delta 5,
Moebius,
Henry Cow,
The United States of America,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Sonics,
Neu!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Icehouse,
Tears for Fears,
Clear Light,
Youth Brigade,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultra Naté,
Q and Not U,
Wasted Youth,
Deakin,
MDC,
Brass Construction,
Chrome,
Country Teasers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nico,
Barrington Levy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Swans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Wyatt,
Scratch Acid,
This Heat,
Amazonics,
Patti Smith,
Public Image Ltd.,
Unwound,
Absolute Body Control,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pussy Galore,
The Birthday Party,
Mo-Dettes,
Scientists,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boredoms,
Aswad,
Alphaville,
Harry Pussy,
Technova,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Divine Comedy,
Sonic Youth,
Colin Newman,
Fat Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
UT,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Underground Resistance,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Second Layer,
Heaven 17,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.