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 Guyana and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
The Busters,
The Wake,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gap Band,
Godley & Creme,
Agent Orange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Man Eating Sloth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cymande,
Minny Pops,
Monks,
The Golliwogs,
Juan Atkins,
Unrelated Segments,
Sixth Finger,
Funky Four + One,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Subhumans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Connie Case,
Sound Behaviour,
Sandy B,
Jandek,
Eve St. Jones,
Groovy Waters,
Neu!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter & Gordon,
H. Thieme,
T. Rex,
Boogie Down Productions,
This Heat,
Motorama,
Aswad,
Wolf Eyes,
Young Marble Giants,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Reuben Wilson,
Outsiders,
The Monks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scratch Acid,
Wally Richardson,
Althea and Donna,
Darondo,
Minnie Riperton,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fire Engines,
Eurythmics,
Cameo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Maurizio,
The Gories,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Human League,
Warren Ellis,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.