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 East Timor and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Matthew Halsall,
Alton Ellis,
Rapeman,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scan 7,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kayak,
Tubeway Army,
Darondo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Byron Stingily,
Animal Collective,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Bar-Kays,
The J.B.'s,
Stetsasonic,
Urselle,
Eurythmics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Howard Jones,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pantytec,
Joy Division,
Crime,
Sixth Finger,
Monks,
Suburban Knight,
Lou Christie,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gladiators,
Reuben Wilson,
Jacques Brel,
Japan,
Don Cherry,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlback,
Aloha Tigers,
Slick Rick,
Stockholm Monsters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
B.T. Express,
The Kinks,
Minnie Riperton,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bad Manners,
The Zeros,
Quadrant,
Trumans Water,
The Gories,
Jacob Miller,
Radio Birdman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flash Fearless,
Soulsonic Force,
Young Marble Giants,
Procol Harum,
The Trojans,
Bush Tetras,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.