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 Netherlands and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 Swell Maps to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
The Durutti Column,
Jawbox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Laurel Aitken,
Joey Negro,
Barbara Tucker,
Sex Pistols,
Suicide,
Infiniti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kevin Saunderson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
Easy Going,
Lower 48,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
H. Thieme,
Piero Umiliani,
The Buckinghams,
Sound Behaviour,
Toni Rubio,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fortunes,
Arab on Radar,
8 Eyed Spy,
Section 25,
Warsaw,
The Trojans,
Dual Sessions,
Eurythmics,
Scrapy,
DNA,
Royal Trux,
The Smiths,
Tommy Roe,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Simply Red,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Desert Stars,
David Bowie,
Theoretical Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
The Music Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Moebius,
The Grass Roots,
X-101,
kango's stein massive,
F. McDonald,
The Mummies,
the Swans,
Kenny Larkin,
Marvin Gaye,
Franke,
The Mojo Men,
Soft Cell,
Howard Jones,
Parry Music,
The Victims,
Sparks,
Black Sheep,
Malaria!,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.