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 Gambia and from Portland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Neil Young,
Roxy Music,
Index,
Lyres,
the Sonics,
Eric Dolphy,
Morten Harket,
The Modern Lovers,
In Retrospect,
Cymande,
John Lydon,
The Durutti Column,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
The Doors,
Brand Nubian,
Fat Boys,
Don Cherry,
Rekid,
Alphaville,
the Slits,
Monolake,
Soft Cell,
The Count Five,
Buzzcocks,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cure,
Ohio Players,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Pulsallama,
Pussy Galore,
Maurizio,
Drexciya,
The Motions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Cluster,
Arthur Verocai,
World's Most,
The Gladiators,
The Last Poets,
Moby Grape,
The Victims,
The Remains,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scott Walker,
The American Breed,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Camberwell Now,
AZ,
The Selecter,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
JFA,
Y Pants,
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.