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 Afghanistan 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the funk 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kurtis Blow,
Hot Snakes,
the Bar-Kays,
Fluxion,
The Names,
Q and Not U,
AZ,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Byrd,
Masters at Work,
Bush Tetras,
The Trojans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flipper,
Television Personalities,
Nirvana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Gories,
DJ Sneak,
Youth Brigade,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Erykah Badu,
Livin' Joy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bauhaus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skriet,
Aswad,
Ituana,
The Barracudas,
The Pop Group,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Searchers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Graham Central Station,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swans,
Marshall Jefferson,
H. Thieme,
Joy Division,
Schoolly D,
Simply Red,
Angry Samoans,
The Happenings,
Eve St. Jones,
The Residents,
The Martian,
Rufus Thomas,
Spoonie Gee,
Infiniti,
John Cale,
Rekid,
The Red Krayola,
The Count Five,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.