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 Namibia and from Manchester.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Durutti Column to the funk 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks 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?
Brick,
Procol Harum,
Goldenarms,
Easy Going,
Los Fastidios,
Alice Coltrane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Slits,
Arab on Radar,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Masters at Work,
Buzzcocks,
Stiv Bators,
Amazonics,
Neil Young,
Thompson Twins,
Q65,
Al Stewart,
June of 44,
Crash Course in Science,
Robert Hood,
Wasted Youth,
The Monks,
Warsaw,
Lou Christie,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Funkadelic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stetsasonic,
Cal Tjader,
EPMD,
Model 500,
Mad Mike,
Wings,
Au Pairs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric Dolphy,
Das Ding,
Ponytail,
Magma,
Radio Birdman,
Thee Headcoats,
Angry Samoans,
Letta Mbulu,
Brand Nubian,
Maurizio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aural Exciters,
The Skatalites,
The Tremeloes,
Sight & Sound,
The Litter,
Guru Guru,
Ronnie Foster,
Outsiders,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Soft Cell,
The Misunderstood,
Joyce Sims,
The Buckinghams,
Basic Channel,
The Saints,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.