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 Netherlands and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Underground Resistance to the grunge 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Fugs,
The Victims,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wings,
The Seeds,
Heaven 17,
Royal Trux,
Alice Coltrane,
Byron Stingily,
R.M.O.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bauhaus,
Pagans,
Eden Ahbez,
Massinfluence,
Urselle,
Derrick Morgan,
The Black Dice,
The Angels of Light,
The Dead C,
ABBA,
Hardrive,
Skaos,
Marc Almond,
Gang Green,
T. Rex,
Crime,
Pere Ubu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pantytec,
Supertramp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Hutcherson,
ABC,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Vainqueur,
Toni Rubio,
The Smoke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Peter & Gordon,
Mantronix,
Q65,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minutemen,
Sällskapet,
Sam Rivers,
Idris Muhammad,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Carl Craig,
The Detroit Cobras,
Maurizio,
Crooked Eye,
Yazoo,
Bobby Womack,
Aloha Tigers,
The Grass Roots,
The Divine Comedy,
Pussy Galore,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.