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 Indonesia and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Grass Roots to the disco 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Mission of Burma,
Country Teasers,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Laurel Aitken,
Television,
New York Dolls,
Nik Kershaw,
the Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scrapy,
John Cale,
Pantaleimon,
Monks,
Lindisfarne,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sarah Menescal,
X-102,
Infiniti,
Godley & Creme,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roxy Music,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Suicide,
Maleditus Sound,
The Neon Judgement,
The Birthday Party,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brand Nubian,
The Beau Brummels,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mojo Men,
Pagans,
Porter Ricks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Smoke,
Alison Limerick,
The Smiths,
Q and Not U,
Camouflage,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slick Rick,
Joy Division,
Absolute Body Control,
DNA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
China Crisis,
The Toasters,
AZ,
Echospace,
Mark Hollis,
Darondo,
Silicon Teens,
Soulsonic Force,
EPMD,
The Evens,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Electric Prunes,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.