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 Thailand and from Beijing.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Lou Reed 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 Marine Girls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Duran Duran,
Donny Hathaway,
Piero Umiliani,
Eddi Front,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Dead C,
the Soft Cell,
Rod Modell,
Gabor Szabo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Alison Limerick,
The Tremeloes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Janne Schatter,
Los Fastidios,
The Walker Brothers,
Dark Day,
Derrick Morgan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ponytail,
The Star Department,
Hoover,
Leonard Cohen,
Jacques Brel,
Rakim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Moebius,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fela Kuti,
The Martian,
Lee Hazlewood,
Saccharine Trust,
Pantytec,
Flamin' Groovies,
Youth Brigade,
Goldenarms,
Funky Four + One,
Mandrill,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Wyatt,
Brand Nubian,
Black Flag,
The Motions,
The Wake,
Quantec,
Public Enemy,
Oneida,
Pierre Henry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hardrive,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lungfish,
Kaleidoscope,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flipper,
Shuggie Otis,
Bad Manners,
Soulsonic Force,
The Moleskins,
Severed Heads,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.