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 Kazakhstan and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Khruangbin to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Royal Trux,
The Cramps,
Barclay James Harvest,
Moss Icon,
Smog,
The Monks,
The Barracudas,
Jacob Miller,
David Axelrod,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Sheep,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
Scrapy,
The Dirtbombs,
Robert Hood,
Harry Pussy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dark Day,
Mad Mike,
Andrew Hill,
Bizarre Inc.,
DJ Style,
Sun City Girls,
Clear Light,
Sun Ra,
Harmonia,
Subhumans,
Symarip,
Second Layer,
Theoretical Girls,
K-Klass,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Average White Band,
The Index,
D'Angelo,
Patti Smith,
The Grass Roots,
Bush Tetras,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Moleskins,
Neu!,
Agent Orange,
The United States of America,
UT,
Hasil Adkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Warren Ellis,
Blossom Toes,
Alphaville,
The Vogues,
Peter and Kerry,
Ken Boothe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Con Funk Shun,
Babytalk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.