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 United Kingdom and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Altered Images to the funk 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wasted Youth,
This Heat,
Bootsy Collins,
Cameo,
B.T. Express,
The Barracudas,
The Cure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Doors,
Nick Fraelich,
Aswad,
Gabor Szabo,
The Blues Magoos,
Excepter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boredoms,
Zapp,
Idris Muhammad,
The Residents,
The Golliwogs,
Yellowson,
Siglo XX,
Hashim,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sex Pistols,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Smiths,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cluster,
Average White Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Silicon Teens,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Blake Baxter,
Davy DMX,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Piero Umiliani,
T. Rex,
Kaleidoscope,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Angry Samoans,
Flash Fearless,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Make Up,
Bill Wells,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Five Americans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eve St. Jones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
U.S. Maple,
Erasure,
Deakin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scrapy,
Glenn Branca,
Mo-Dettes,
Accadde A,
Crime,
Warren Ellis,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.