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 Macedonia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 Wasted Youth 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
the Human League,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Count Five,
Mad Mike,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roxy Music,
China Crisis,
Rod Modell,
The Index,
Girls At Our Best!,
Oneida,
Funky Four + One,
The Pop Group,
Circle Jerks,
The Mummies,
Aswad,
Rotary Connection,
Carl Craig,
Popol Vuh,
Connie Case,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sonics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Animal Collective,
Ice-T,
The Offenders,
Grey Daturas,
Quadrant,
Susan Cadogan,
The Divine Comedy,
Ken Boothe,
Stetsasonic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Metal Thangz,
Simply Red,
Interpol,
Jimmy McGriff,
Henry Cow,
Wally Richardson,
Funkadelic,
Ohio Players,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bill Wells,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sixth Finger,
Amazonics,
Robert Görl,
T.S.O.L.,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Trojans,
Section 25,
48th St. Collective,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tres Demented,
Lucky Dragons,
Barry Ungar,
Pulsallama,
Byron Stingily,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.