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 Cambodia and from Glasgow.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
A Certain Ratio,
Sex Pistols,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Axelrod,
Supertramp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cecil Taylor,
Desert Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cal Tjader,
Angry Samoans,
Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gories,
Heaven 17,
The Doobie Brothers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Interpol,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gap Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Motorama,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Modern Lovers,
Judy Mowatt,
Cybotron,
Barrington Levy,
Youth Brigade,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Green,
Ituana,
Rakim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Quando Quango,
Minutemen,
The Cowsills,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
Spoonie Gee,
Wasted Youth,
Brick,
Hardrive,
the Sonics,
Goldenarms,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dirtbombs,
Dead Boys,
Fugazi,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Smoke,
Hasil Adkins,
Gabor Szabo,
Crooked Eye,
Arab on Radar,
The Litter,
Amon Düül II,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.