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 France and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Robert Hood to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
John Lydon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thee Headcoats,
Joy Division,
the Slits,
the Swans,
Underground Resistance,
The Zeros,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eric Copeland,
Gang Starr,
Liliput,
Letta Mbulu,
Curtis Mayfield,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marmalade,
Kaleidoscope,
Mad Mike,
Henry Cow,
Max Romeo,
Tim Buckley,
Cheater Slicks,
Glenn Branca,
Gichy Dan,
Ronnie Foster,
The Vogues,
Scientists,
Warsaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Moon,
Ituana,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scratch Acid,
These Immortal Souls,
Skarface,
Zapp,
Scott Walker,
Reagan Youth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rites of Spring,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fuzztones,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Livin' Joy,
LL Cool J,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
48th St. Collective,
Roxette,
Minutemen,
Spandau Ballet,
Barry Ungar,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rufus Thomas,
This Heat,
Television,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Mills,
Wally Richardson,
Morten Harket,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.