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 Iceland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ponytail to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Make Up,
Thompson Twins,
Angry Samoans,
Pere Ubu,
B.T. Express,
Zapp,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Womack,
Livin' Joy,
Eli Mardock,
Amazonics,
Lakeside,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Royal Trux,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bush Tetras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Selecter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nik Kershaw,
Connie Case,
Au Pairs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scientists,
Skaos,
One Last Wish,
The Golliwogs,
Scan 7,
Robert Hood,
Kaleidoscope,
Buzzcocks,
Kurtis Blow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Curtis Mayfield,
Slick Rick,
Second Layer,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rod Modell,
a-ha,
Gong,
Iggy Pop,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bluetip,
Arcadia,
H. Thieme,
Sister Nancy,
Whodini,
Funky Four + One,
Charles Mingus,
Soul II Soul,
Gerry Rafferty,
UT,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.