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 Belize and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Arthur Verocai to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Gang of Four,
Von Mondo,
New Age Steppers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thee Headcoats,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Rundgren,
Skriet,
Hardrive,
Dark Day,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tim Buckley,
Theoretical Girls,
The Modern Lovers,
The United States of America,
Underground Resistance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Parry Music,
The Knickerbockers,
The Birthday Party,
Can,
Procol Harum,
Newcleus,
David Axelrod,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nik Kershaw,
John Coltrane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joey Negro,
Gabor Szabo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Suburban Knight,
Mad Mike,
John Holt,
Ronan,
Lindisfarne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moby Grape,
Deakin,
Tres Demented,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pierre Henry,
Duran Duran,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alton Ellis,
Cecil Taylor,
T. Rex,
The Stooges,
Joe Finger,
Faraquet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Invisible,
John Cale,
Yaz,
Pylon,
Ornette Coleman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.