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 Iraq and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Y Pants to the grime 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Womack,
Crispy Ambulance,
Althea and Donna,
The Gun Club,
EPMD,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brass Construction,
The Blues Magoos,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Kinks,
The Techniques,
Black Flag,
Can,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Swell Maps,
E-Dancer,
The Tremeloes,
Nils Olav,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aaron Thompson,
Spoonie Gee,
Deadbeat,
The Motions,
The Smoke,
Alison Limerick,
The New Christs,
Camouflage,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ralphi Rosario,
Public Enemy,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Invisible,
Eli Mardock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barbara Tucker,
Scrapy,
Moss Icon,
Harry Pussy,
Ossler,
Accadde A,
Kas Product,
Average White Band,
Monolake,
Alice Coltrane,
Michelle Simonal,
Excepter,
Bob Dylan,
Henry Cow,
The Moleskins,
Lyres,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacques Brel,
Cal Tjader,
John Holt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Steve Hackett,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.