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 Kazakhstan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Smiths to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Camberwell Now,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Silicon Teens,
Q65,
Robert Hood,
Soft Machine,
Ornette Coleman,
L. Decosne,
Ice-T,
Lungfish,
Bizarre Inc.,
Henry Cow,
The Velvet Underground,
Accadde A,
Public Enemy,
Gang Green,
Main Source,
Harmonia,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Associates,
Shoche,
John Cale,
Ronnie Foster,
Laurel Aitken,
Rotary Connection,
Marvin Gaye,
Y Pants,
The Vogues,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ten City,
Sex Pistols,
The Monochrome Set,
The Beau Brummels,
Bang On A Can,
The Young Rascals,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Parry Music,
The Count Five,
Deepchord,
The Moody Blues,
Ralphi Rosario,
Babytalk,
48th St. Collective,
Kaleidoscope,
Dead Boys,
The Buckinghams,
Fugazi,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Clear Light,
Siglo XX,
Brick,
Rosa Yemen,
The Seeds,
Marmalade,
Man Eating Sloth,
DNA,
The Monks,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.