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 Venezuela and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Slits 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sister Nancy,
Tommy Roe,
DJ Sneak,
Aural Exciters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Symarip,
Zero Boys,
Severed Heads,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dennis Brown,
Von Mondo,
Blake Baxter,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hardrive,
Juan Atkins,
Magazine,
Black Moon,
the Sonics,
Slave,
China Crisis,
Yazoo,
Japan,
Talk Talk,
Deadbeat,
Lower 48,
Sixth Finger,
The Names,
Terry Callier,
Q and Not U,
Iggy Pop,
Quadrant,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Swans,
Altered Images,
Fugazi,
Black Sheep,
Radio Birdman,
Nas,
Jeff Lynne,
Joe Smooth,
Zapp,
Boogie Down Productions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Don Cherry,
Wasted Youth,
Alice Coltrane,
Moss Icon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skriet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Maleditus Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
Blancmange,
New Age Steppers,
The Durutti Column,
Davy DMX,
Warren Ellis,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.