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 Ghana and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ 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 48th St. Collective to the crunk 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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
China Crisis,
The Mojo Men,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Trojans,
Quantec,
Marine Girls,
Shoche,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Groovy Waters,
Lou Reed,
Moebius,
Crooked Eye,
Traffic Nightmare,
Qualms,
Todd Terry,
Fear,
Lebanon Hanover,
Johnny Clarke,
The Durutti Column,
Bill Wells,
Letta Mbulu,
Young Marble Giants,
Minnie Riperton,
The Leaves,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Seeds,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Al Stewart,
Scan 7,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eurythmics,
Suburban Knight,
Lyres,
Marc Almond,
ABC,
The Grass Roots,
Angry Samoans,
Dark Day,
The Beau Brummels,
Darondo,
The Cramps,
Josef K,
Roxy Music,
The Fire Engines,
Godley & Creme,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dave Gahan,
The Fuzztones,
KRS-One,
Davy DMX,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Visage,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fad Gadget,
Public Enemy,
The Toasters,
Laurel Aitken,
Pantaleimon,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.