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 Swaziland 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 rhodes 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 Fat Boys to the rock 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fire Engines,
This Heat,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Kinks,
OOIOO,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Monks,
The Music Machine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Flash Fearless,
The Move,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rufus Thomas,
Amon Düül,
Rakim,
Sugar Minott,
The Searchers,
The Selecter,
Khruangbin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dark Day,
David Axelrod,
Model 500,
DJ Sneak,
Smog,
Theoretical Girls,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Sherman,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rod Modell,
Maleditus Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dirtbombs,
U.S. Maple,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nick Fraelich,
Moss Icon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Popol Vuh,
Dennis Brown,
The Leaves,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Adolescents,
The Doors,
John Lydon,
Bill Near,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Susan Cadogan,
Scan 7,
Nirvana,
Infiniti,
Guru Guru,
Babytalk,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fall,
Delta 5,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.