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 Andorra and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Goldenarms,
Gastr Del Sol,
Maleditus Sound,
The Blues Magoos,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Con Funk Shun,
The Monks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Sandy B,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Rundgren,
Sam Rivers,
Scan 7,
The Cure,
The Golliwogs,
The Gun Club,
Soul Sonic Force,
Accadde A,
Janne Schatter,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smiths,
F. McDonald,
The Dirtbombs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Moon,
Grauzone,
Mo-Dettes,
Supertramp,
Cecil Taylor,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fire Engines,
Tommy Roe,
The American Breed,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang On A Can,
Wolf Eyes,
Lightning Bolt,
Robert Wyatt,
Essential Logic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Max Romeo,
Technova,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Barracudas,
MDC,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Saccharine Trust,
the Sonics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Agent Orange,
Adolescents,
The Monochrome Set,
Nik Kershaw,
Roxette,
Sex Pistols,
Black Pus,
Morten Harket,
EPMD,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.