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 Italy and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Names to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
The Saints,
Agent Orange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eden Ahbez,
Heaven 17,
Electric Prunes,
In Retrospect,
Subhumans,
These Immortal Souls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Five Americans,
John Cale,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Warsaw,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
L. Decosne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gerry Rafferty,
Animal Collective,
June of 44,
The Moleskins,
Ponytail,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Bourne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stiv Bators,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Qualms,
Jacques Brel,
Organ,
Rites of Spring,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deepchord,
Suicide,
Ornette Coleman,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alphaville,
Unwound,
Rosa Yemen,
Bronski Beat,
The Grass Roots,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nirvana,
kango's stein massive,
The Zeros,
Newcleus,
Mr. Review,
Ultravox,
Althea and Donna,
The Moody Blues,
Malaria!,
Sandy B,
Tubeway Army,
The Monochrome Set,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Quadrant,
Maurizio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sex Pistols,
Harmonia,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.