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 Djibouti and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Altered Images to the grunge 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Infiniti,
Fatback Band,
Oblivians,
Laurel Aitken,
Tubeway Army,
The Fire Engines,
Prince Buster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cymande,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Derrick May,
The Mojo Men,
Y Pants,
Television Personalities,
John Foxx,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Intrusion,
Bobby Byrd,
Mark Hollis,
Monolake,
Drexciya,
Q65,
Tres Demented,
Main Source,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Stiv Bators,
The Slits,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Arthur Verocai,
Deepchord,
Nico,
Ronnie Foster,
Unwound,
Leonard Cohen,
Joe Smooth,
X-Ray Spex,
Kas Product,
Todd Terry,
These Immortal Souls,
Altered Images,
Funky Four + One,
The Residents,
The Move,
Lalann,
10cc,
Television,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hardrive,
Harry Pussy,
Malaria!,
Wasted Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DNA,
Grey Daturas,
Faraquet,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.