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 Kuwait and from Spokane.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the techno 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deakin,
Donald Byrd,
The United States of America,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Outsiders,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pantytec,
Dave Gahan,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker,
Metal Thangz,
The Slackers,
Nirvana,
Desert Stars,
Excepter,
Rod Modell,
Cameo,
Cecil Taylor,
Sister Nancy,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeff Lynne,
Stereo Dub,
Johnny Clarke,
Banda Bassotti,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Buzzcocks,
Hot Snakes,
The Pretty Things,
Von Mondo,
Aswad,
Mantronix,
Eddi Front,
Warsaw,
Duran Duran,
Bang On A Can,
Vainqueur,
Bootsy Collins,
Gong,
T.S.O.L.,
Patti Smith,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Arthur Verocai,
Reagan Youth,
Guru Guru,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
A Certain Ratio,
Kerri Chandler,
Gang Starr,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Little Man,
Amazonics,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Robert Wyatt,
Franke,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.