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 Marshall Islands and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Porter Ricks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kevin Saunderson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moby Grape,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gerry Rafferty,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Soul II Soul,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fugazi,
Chris & Cosey,
Kurtis Blow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Silicon Teens,
Nico,
The Sonics,
MDC,
Angry Samoans,
Joensuu 1685,
Crime,
Goldenarms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yaz,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Henry Cow,
Charles Mingus,
Pere Ubu,
Joy Division,
Schoolly D,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shoche,
Parry Music,
Sonic Youth,
The Doors,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eddi Front,
David Axelrod,
Eurythmics,
Soulsonic Force,
Oneida,
Wings,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pulsallama,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stetsasonic,
Joyce Sims,
Carl Craig,
Neil Young,
Ronnie Foster,
Ten City,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Visage,
Arab on Radar,
The Residents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dawn Penn,
Radio Birdman,
Joe Finger,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.