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 Togo and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Alison Limerick 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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Babytalk,
R.M.O.,
Wings,
Rites of Spring,
Harry Pussy,
Moebius,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radio Birdman,
Chris Corsano,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rakim,
Neu!,
Siglo XX,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kurtis Blow,
Deakin,
The Misunderstood,
Skaos,
Minor Threat,
Gabor Szabo,
The Skatalites,
Pet Shop Boys,
Warsaw,
The Names,
Freddie Wadling,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kenny Larkin,
Lucky Dragons,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Saccharine Trust,
Audionom,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dennis Brown,
The Last Poets,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
ABBA,
Minnie Riperton,
The Golliwogs,
Mr. Review,
a-ha,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Blancmange,
The Real Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
Alton Ellis,
Underground Resistance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alice Coltrane,
8 Eyed Spy,
Peter and Kerry,
Aaron Thompson,
Suburban Knight,
Symarip,
Eric Copeland,
Adolescents,
Brass Construction,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.