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 Philippines and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gap Band to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Niagra,
R.M.O.,
Livin' Joy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Trojans,
Amon Düül,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amon Düül II,
Bootsy Collins,
The Offenders,
Maurizio,
Pet Shop Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
World's Most,
The Mummies,
Public Enemy,
the Fania All-Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
The Vogues,
Black Pus,
Joey Negro,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arcadia,
Hashim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
The Moleskins,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mantronix,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Bauhaus,
Thee Headcoats,
Prince Buster,
Blossom Toes,
Severed Heads,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Average White Band,
Los Fastidios,
John Foxx,
Babytalk,
The Gun Club,
Loose Ends,
June Days,
The Kinks,
the Soft Cell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kenny Larkin,
Jawbox,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Star Department,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Green,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.