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 Tonga and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Oblivians,
Henry Cow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Mummies,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kenny Larkin,
Guru Guru,
The Grass Roots,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grauzone,
Ultra Naté,
Pantaleimon,
Von Mondo,
Amazonics,
Soft Cell,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Golliwogs,
Swell Maps,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eli Mardock,
Hardrive,
U.S. Maple,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brick,
Agitation Free,
Bronski Beat,
Arcadia,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalann,
Eve St. Jones,
Television,
Peter and Kerry,
Sun City Girls,
Skarface,
Tom Boy,
The Gladiators,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brass Construction,
Drive Like Jehu,
Newcleus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Barracudas,
The Flesh Eaters,
Q and Not U,
La Düsseldorf,
The Seeds,
The Moleskins,
Motorama,
Icehouse,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Leonard Cohen,
Brand Nubian,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.