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 Kyrgyzstan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Dead C to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scratch Acid,
Rakim,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Camouflage,
Godley & Creme,
The Wake,
Talk Talk,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Young Rascals,
Niagra,
Television Personalities,
Banda Bassotti,
Buzzcocks,
Pere Ubu,
KRS-One,
The Vogues,
Eli Mardock,
10cc,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rosa Yemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Johnny Clarke,
Fear,
the Normal,
Oblivians,
Drexciya,
Ice-T,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Das Ding,
Slick Rick,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Amazonics,
Make Up,
Pussy Galore,
Jeff Lynne,
Joe Finger,
Bang On A Can,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Alarm Clocks,
MDC,
The Detroit Cobras,
L. Decosne,
Nation of Ulysses,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Guru Guru,
Stetsasonic,
Aloha Tigers,
B.T. Express,
The Zeros,
Ralphi Rosario,
Audionom,
Flash Fearless,
Kayak,
Yusef Lateef,
Los Fastidios,
Janne Schatter,
Wasted Youth,
Ossler,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.