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 Sri Lanka and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 FM Einheit to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rotary Connection,
Rekid,
Surgeon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sällskapet,
Yusef Lateef,
Aloha Tigers,
Porter Ricks,
Rosa Yemen,
Juan Atkins,
Tim Buckley,
The Kinks,
Alphaville,
L. Decosne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scott Walker,
Maurizio,
Drexciya,
The Pretty Things,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Bar-Kays,
Clear Light,
X-Ray Spex,
Ornette Coleman,
Derrick Morgan,
Lalann,
Letta Mbulu,
Thompson Twins,
Joe Finger,
Suburban Knight,
Grauzone,
The American Breed,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultra Naté,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Bananas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Starr,
Crispy Ambulance,
Intrusion,
Slave,
Theoretical Girls,
The Birthday Party,
Rites of Spring,
Reagan Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rakim,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pierre Henry,
The Moody Blues,
Bizarre Inc.,
Duran Duran,
Wasted Youth,
Gang of Four,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.