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 Guinea-Bissau and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Count Five to the jazz 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Knickerbockers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Victims,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Barracudas,
Silicon Teens,
The Moody Blues,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Donny Hathaway,
Niagra,
David McCallum,
Mr. Review,
Soulsonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
Harmonia,
a-ha,
Zero Boys,
Fatback Band,
Suburban Knight,
Arab on Radar,
the Germs,
Bobby Byrd,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Groovy Waters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Y Pants,
The Slits,
Ituana,
The Evens,
Mandrill,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tom Boy,
Soul II Soul,
Camouflage,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
China Crisis,
The Human League,
June of 44,
Yaz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Drexciya,
Q65,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scratch Acid,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang of Four,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
Schoolly D,
John Lydon,
Symarip,
Yellowson,
Cal Tjader,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Tremeloes,
The Beau Brummels,
Don Cherry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.