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 Saudi Arabia and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pussy Galore to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Derrick Morgan,
Jawbox,
Trumans Water,
the Bar-Kays,
Stetsasonic,
Scrapy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deadbeat,
Negative Approach,
Cal Tjader,
The Gladiators,
World's Most,
Gichy Dan,
Wire,
The Toasters,
Funkadelic,
Cluster,
The Saints,
Faraquet,
Rakim,
Anakelly,
OOIOO,
Spoonie Gee,
Cheater Slicks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Althea and Donna,
FM Einheit,
Ponytail,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Star Department,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thee Headcoats,
Motorama,
Susan Cadogan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Last Poets,
Pet Shop Boys,
Duran Duran,
Radiopuhelimet,
Q and Not U,
Technova,
Sparks,
Tom Boy,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Moody Blues,
Aswad,
Pussy Galore,
Deepchord,
Bobby Womack,
Tomorrow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minor Threat,
The Young Rascals,
Gabor Szabo,
Reagan Youth,
Make Up,
Harpers Bizarre,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.