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 Pakistan 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Technova to the techno 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Royal Trux,
Harmonia,
Cal Tjader,
T. Rex,
The Invisible,
Sister Nancy,
Rosa Yemen,
Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mad Mike,
Oneida,
Liliput,
Amon Düül II,
The Dave Clark Five,
Icehouse,
New Age Steppers,
Joyce Sims,
Sun City Girls,
Black Flag,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Seeds,
June Days,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rites of Spring,
Cheater Slicks,
Quando Quango,
Ituana,
The Dead C,
Saccharine Trust,
Ultimate Spinach,
Magma,
Tom Boy,
Inner City,
The Neon Judgement,
Drive Like Jehu,
Vladislav Delay,
These Immortal Souls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Max Romeo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Monochrome Set,
Essential Logic,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joe Smooth,
Eddi Front,
Chris & Cosey,
Sex Pistols,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Derrick May,
Unwound,
Marshall Jefferson,
Audionom,
The Five Americans,
ABC,
The Remains,
Neu!,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.