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 Solomon Islands and from Accra.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Reagan Youth to the electroclash 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
R.M.O.,
The Litter,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Severed Heads,
Newcleus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Basic Channel,
Mark Hollis,
UT,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-Ray Spex,
Tim Buckley,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Technova,
T. Rex,
Unrelated Segments,
Arab on Radar,
Byron Stingily,
Sun Ra,
Procol Harum,
Qualms,
The Red Krayola,
LL Cool J,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Hood,
New York Dolls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DJ Style,
Ronan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kas Product,
Black Bananas,
Minny Pops,
Alton Ellis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Skarface,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Howard Jones,
The Divine Comedy,
The American Breed,
Man Parrish,
Hasil Adkins,
The Martian,
Sound Behaviour,
Dave Gahan,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cure,
Donny Hathaway,
Bob Dylan,
The Five Americans,
Kurtis Blow,
David McCallum,
The Mojo Men,
Adolescents,
Scrapy,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.