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 States and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Stetsasonic to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Anakelly,
Bauhaus,
Funkadelic,
Wire,
The Pretty Things,
June Days,
Barry Ungar,
Rekid,
The Trojans,
The Seeds,
The J.B.'s,
Eve St. Jones,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Mills,
One Last Wish,
Rosa Yemen,
Rakim,
Ultravox,
Girls At Our Best!,
Au Pairs,
Bill Near,
Symarip,
Black Sheep,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Beau Brummels,
Delon & Dalcan,
Q65,
ABC,
Bob Dylan,
Terry Callier,
Bootsy Collins,
Todd Terry,
New York Dolls,
Mr. Review,
The Birthday Party,
Ronan,
Harmonia,
Black Flag,
Brick,
World's Most,
Aaron Thompson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Barrington Levy,
The Zeros,
The Mojo Men,
Amazonics,
Max Romeo,
Blancmange,
Hardrive,
Jandek,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grauzone,
Organ,
Magma,
Chrome,
The Slits,
Quantec,
Monks,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.