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 Malawi and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Index to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Grauzone,
Neu!,
Audionom,
Bill Near,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Godley & Creme,
Blossom Toes,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Vainqueur,
Jacques Brel,
Pylon,
Fad Gadget,
Dorothy Ashby,
U.S. Maple,
Freddie Wadling,
Man Parrish,
Tommy Roe,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dead Boys,
The Monks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arcadia,
Aural Exciters,
Simply Red,
The Neon Judgement,
The Durutti Column,
Janne Schatter,
Cal Tjader,
The Fire Engines,
The Human League,
Hardrive,
The Stooges,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eric Copeland,
the Association,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jacob Miller,
Brand Nubian,
Al Stewart,
Franke,
Qualms,
Camouflage,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Terry Callier,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Television Personalities,
10cc,
The Sonics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
Adolescents,
Unrelated Segments,
The Offenders,
Black Flag,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marc Almond,
Bad Manners,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.