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 Chad and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Smog to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Names,
The Kinks,
Half Japanese,
Bootsy Collins,
Fat Boys,
D'Angelo,
Roxette,
Cheater Slicks,
Jeff Lynne,
Fatback Band,
The Golliwogs,
Amon Düül II,
Make Up,
Panda Bear,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Flipper,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minny Pops,
Grandmaster Flash,
Henry Cow,
The J.B.'s,
Lucky Dragons,
a-ha,
EPMD,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Simply Red,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Leaves,
Connie Case,
Procol Harum,
Jeff Mills,
Das Ding,
The Slackers,
Circle Jerks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gun Club,
Tommy Roe,
Bad Manners,
JFA,
Hardrive,
The Smiths,
Al Stewart,
Ornette Coleman,
Dark Day,
Country Joe & The Fish,
World's Most,
Cybotron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rekid,
the Association,
The Move,
Flamin' Groovies,
La Düsseldorf,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.