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 Burkina and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bar-Kays to the disco 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Crash Course in Science,
Mr. Review,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Vogues,
Todd Rundgren,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang of Four,
David McCallum,
Saccharine Trust,
Camberwell Now,
Blake Baxter,
R.M.O.,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brothers Johnson,
Graham Central Station,
Roy Ayers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gichy Dan,
The Misunderstood,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fad Gadget,
Alice Coltrane,
Agitation Free,
The Detroit Cobras,
Camouflage,
Procol Harum,
Supertramp,
Ludus,
Circle Jerks,
Boz Scaggs,
Maleditus Sound,
Don Cherry,
Colin Newman,
Todd Terry,
Pere Ubu,
Yellowson,
H. Thieme,
Deepchord,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gun Club,
The Moleskins,
X-101,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
a-ha,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skarface,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultra Naté,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Derrick Morgan,
Cameo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Derrick May,
Drexciya,
Black Moon,
Animal Collective,
Scan 7,
Nation of Ulysses,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.