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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 techno 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
DJ Sneak,
Sun City Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Intrusion,
Susan Cadogan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cecil Taylor,
Brand Nubian,
Accadde A,
Isaac Hayes,
Whodini,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Malaria!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Connie Case,
Suburban Knight,
the Association,
Clear Light,
Barbara Tucker,
F. McDonald,
The Victims,
Franke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fugs,
Arab on Radar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Doors,
Black Moon,
Terry Callier,
Panda Bear,
Public Enemy,
The American Breed,
T.S.O.L.,
Prince Buster,
Sight & Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cybotron,
Basic Channel,
Spoonie Gee,
The Techniques,
The Trojans,
Janne Schatter,
Unrelated Segments,
The Offenders,
Idris Muhammad,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ossler,
The Beau Brummels,
Television Personalities,
Scrapy,
Underground Resistance,
Ronan,
The Dead C,
Metal Thangz,
Lou Christie,
Rufus Thomas,
The Grass Roots,
Youth Brigade,
Absolute Body Control,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.