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 Seychelles and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Laurel Aitken to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Jesus and Mary Chain record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Lyres,
Scratch Acid,
Hot Snakes,
Connie Case,
Black Bananas,
Half Japanese,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
UT,
Interpol,
Avey Tare,
T.S.O.L.,
D'Angelo,
Joyce Sims,
Sugar Minott,
Ice-T,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Harmonia,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Byron Stingily,
The Fire Engines,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Robert Hood,
Saccharine Trust,
Letta Mbulu,
Man Parrish,
Sight & Sound,
John Holt,
Crime,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arthur Verocai,
The Young Rascals,
Joe Smooth,
Monks,
Bobby Womack,
H. Thieme,
The Fugs,
Basic Channel,
Adolescents,
Youth Brigade,
the Swans,
The Standells,
Zapp,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultimate Spinach,
Trumans Water,
Motorama,
Main Source,
Amazonics,
Minny Pops,
The Music Machine,
F. McDonald,
The Fuzztones,
The Slits,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roy Ayers,
DJ Sneak,
Rapeman,
Mark Hollis,
Boz Scaggs,
Ossler,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.