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 Colombia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
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 organ 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Mantronix,
Procol Harum,
Graham Central Station,
The Leaves,
Byron Stingily,
Organ,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cheater Slicks,
Sun Ra,
Archie Shepp,
Amazonics,
Stetsasonic,
Clear Light,
kango's stein massive,
Y Pants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Association,
Joensuu 1685,
Von Mondo,
Boogie Down Productions,
KRS-One,
Gang Green,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
L. Decosne,
Drexciya,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Wyatt,
Television,
Agent Orange,
The Trojans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
T.S.O.L.,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Pop Group,
Derrick May,
Rapeman,
The Gun Club,
Ituana,
Mars,
Brass Construction,
Adolescents,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roger Hodgson,
The Motions,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang of Four,
The Alarm Clocks,
Inner City,
Sällskapet,
Deakin,
The Wake,
Gabor Szabo,
Rotary Connection,
The Zeros,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Holt,
Mary Jane Girls,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.