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 Kosovo and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Cybotron,
Crooked Eye,
The Monks,
Alison Limerick,
Fear,
Sarah Menescal,
Robert Görl,
Isaac Hayes,
Sun City Girls,
Section 25,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed,
Grauzone,
Anthony Braxton,
The Leaves,
Niagra,
Agent Orange,
James White and The Blacks,
Ten City,
Tim Buckley,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dirtbombs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grey Daturas,
One Last Wish,
Faraquet,
Andrew Hill,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Von Mondo,
Ronnie Foster,
Albert Ayler,
John Foxx,
Zapp,
Hot Snakes,
Sandy B,
Lee Hazlewood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Saints,
Rod Modell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lightning Bolt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Golliwogs,
the Sonics,
Pylon,
Cameo,
Henry Cow,
Schoolly D,
Slave,
The Happenings,
The Toasters,
the Normal,
Crash Course in Science,
Basic Channel,
Index,
Whodini,
the Slits,
Lou Christie,
Royal Trux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.