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 Ivory Coast and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb 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 The Real Kids to the dance 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kenny Larkin,
Tears for Fears,
The Cure,
The Misunderstood,
Make Up,
Lakeside,
Q and Not U,
Lalann,
Gang Green,
The Selecter,
Ten City,
The Wake,
Amazonics,
48th St. Collective,
Jeff Lynne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dual Sessions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Soft Cell,
Kurtis Blow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Section 25,
Rhythm & Sound,
Faust,
Big Daddy Kane,
Donald Byrd,
Icehouse,
Pole,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
T. Rex,
Hot Snakes,
Sparks,
The Mojo Men,
Andrew Hill,
Eli Mardock,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wire,
Scion,
Wally Richardson,
Zero Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Y Pants,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Human League,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cymande,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Carl Craig,
The Mummies,
The Zeros,
Dennis Brown,
Ken Boothe,
Black Pus,
Minor Threat,
The Blues Magoos,
Cybotron,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Association,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.