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 Gambia and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Flash Fearless to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Fat Boys,
Mars,
Can,
Pole,
Lucky Dragons,
Sexual Harrassment,
EPMD,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eve St. Jones,
The Durutti Column,
Lungfish,
Charles Mingus,
Roxy Music,
The Dirtbombs,
Underground Resistance,
The Offenders,
Nik Kershaw,
Swell Maps,
The Moleskins,
The Move,
La Düsseldorf,
Piero Umiliani,
Dennis Brown,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Mills,
The Trojans,
Joyce Sims,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kayak,
Rufus Thomas,
The Victims,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Byron Stingily,
Spoonie Gee,
Basic Channel,
Dark Day,
Royal Trux,
Kool Moe Dee,
Amon Düül,
Unwound,
Eli Mardock,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mr. Review,
Derrick May,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Lydon,
Technova,
Magma,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hasil Adkins,
The Index,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Country Teasers,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.