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 El Salvador and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lalann to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
The Remains,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Robert Hood,
Don Cherry,
Kurtis Blow,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Bananas,
Newcleus,
Joe Finger,
Visage,
Swell Maps,
Rufus Thomas,
Supertramp,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Q and Not U,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bauhaus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ludus,
Barrington Levy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Icehouse,
Sonny Sharrock,
Michelle Simonal,
Graham Central Station,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Shoche,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fall,
The Slits,
The Angels of Light,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Youth Brigade,
The Raincoats,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Christie,
DJ Style,
Steve Hackett,
Bad Manners,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boredoms,
Suburban Knight,
X-Ray Spex,
Mandrill,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Moon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
The Young Rascals,
Gichy Dan,
Todd Rundgren,
Roy Ayers,
Cheater Slicks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Traffic Nightmare,
Saccharine Trust,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.