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 Guatemala and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 MC5 to the crunk 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
The Durutti Column,
Blossom Toes,
The Birthday Party,
The Dave Clark Five,
Blake Baxter,
Susan Cadogan,
Grauzone,
Pere Ubu,
The Gap Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Lindisfarne,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mummies,
John Holt,
Rapeman,
New Age Steppers,
Grey Daturas,
Connie Case,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Al Stewart,
The Searchers,
D'Angelo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Swans,
Groovy Waters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Index,
Monks,
Dave Gahan,
The Last Poets,
Slick Rick,
Soulsonic Force,
Marine Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Tommy Roe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Laurel Aitken,
Peter & Gordon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Aural Exciters,
Junior Murvin,
Flash Fearless,
Interpol,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joe Smooth,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slackers,
ABC,
Nils Olav,
Thee Headcoats,
the Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
48th St. Collective,
Magma,
The Music Machine,
Cluster,
Roxy Music,
Fatback Band,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.