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 Czech Republic and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Loose Ends to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Amon Düül,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobbi Humphrey,
cv313,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ronnie Foster,
Mandrill,
Kayak,
Icehouse,
Newcleus,
Sun City Girls,
The Wake,
Rod Modell,
K-Klass,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tom Boy,
Joe Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Walker Brothers,
Scion,
Steve Hackett,
Q and Not U,
Intrusion,
Avey Tare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Massinfluence,
Nas,
Barry Ungar,
Amazonics,
Donny Hathaway,
Fela Kuti,
Freddie Wadling,
Sonny Sharrock,
Inner City,
Radiohead,
Tomorrow,
Schoolly D,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joe Smooth,
The J.B.'s,
Von Mondo,
James White and The Blacks,
The Young Rascals,
The Dead C,
The Blues Magoos,
Kerri Chandler,
The Skatalites,
Camouflage,
Y Pants,
Matthew Bourne,
Index,
A Certain Ratio,
Yellowson,
The Kinks,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
Moebius,
Black Flag,
Quando Quango,
Althea and Donna,
Dark Day,
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.