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 Papua New Guinea and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Traffic Nightmare to the punk 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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys 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?
Eden Ahbez,
Tomorrow,
Pere Ubu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Donald Byrd,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Neu!,
Silicon Teens,
Cymande,
The Electric Prunes,
Television,
Cameo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fugazi,
Banda Bassotti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Womack,
the Association,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pet Shop Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
Judy Mowatt,
Television Personalities,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Residents,
Icehouse,
Intrusion,
Warsaw,
Country Teasers,
Ossler,
The Misunderstood,
Boredoms,
Marine Girls,
Wings,
OOIOO,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fluxion,
The Blues Magoos,
Glenn Branca,
Rekid,
Ten City,
The Golliwogs,
Avey Tare,
Stetsasonic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barbara Tucker,
Chrome,
The Gladiators,
Yellowson,
Suicide,
B.T. Express,
Gabor Szabo,
Alice Coltrane,
Shoche,
Make Up,
Donny Hathaway,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.