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 Dominican Republic and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Moby Grape to the disco 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Aural Exciters,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Red Krayola,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jacques Brel,
Nico,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Groovy Waters,
Jawbox,
Blossom Toes,
Ronnie Foster,
The Smoke,
Fat Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
K-Klass,
Charles Mingus,
Sällskapet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Youth Brigade,
Khruangbin,
The Doors,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aswad,
Alton Ellis,
Monolake,
Connie Case,
Glambeats Corp.,
Masters at Work,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Second Layer,
Kurtis Blow,
Whodini,
Kaleidoscope,
Marmalade,
The Wake,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Drexciya,
Marcia Griffiths,
Goldenarms,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dark Day,
Thompson Twins,
Icehouse,
Gerry Rafferty,
Isaac Hayes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Searchers,
L. Decosne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Harmonia,
The Slackers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wally Richardson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Liliput,
Ralphi Rosario,
Von Mondo,
UT,
Faraquet,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.