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 Portugal 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Boogie Down Productions to the crunk 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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Oblivians,
Procol Harum,
Youth Brigade,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Womack,
Niagra,
Deepchord,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Pretty Things,
The Busters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Silicon Teens,
Nick Fraelich,
Heaven 17,
Little Man,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minny Pops,
Cybotron,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Christie,
The Smiths,
AZ,
The Fuzztones,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crime,
The Barracudas,
kango's stein massive,
Carl Craig,
Porter Ricks,
X-Ray Spex,
The Litter,
The Golliwogs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Circle Jerks,
Ice-T,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dirtbombs,
Alison Limerick,
Robert Hood,
Absolute Body Control,
Neu!,
the Soft Cell,
Dual Sessions,
Faraquet,
Ponytail,
Roy Ayers,
The Names,
T. Rex,
Lightning Bolt,
Wings,
Sex Pistols,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Sheep,
The Gladiators,
Harmonia,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Reed,
Neil Young,
Loose Ends,
Sexual Harrassment,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.