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 Korea North and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scratch Acid to the jazz 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Soft Cell,
D'Angelo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sparks,
Slave,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jandek,
The Moleskins,
Can,
EPMD,
Symarip,
Rapeman,
MC5,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlback,
Yellowson,
Saccharine Trust,
Desert Stars,
Silicon Teens,
Technova,
Tom Boy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cramps,
Johnny Clarke,
Lower 48,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Swell Maps,
Fat Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Los Fastidios,
Graham Central Station,
The Vogues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Electric Prunes,
Erykah Badu,
The Victims,
Rosa Yemen,
These Immortal Souls,
UT,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dave Gahan,
The Evens,
Judy Mowatt,
Nas,
Marc Almond,
The Wake,
The Litter,
Second Layer,
Parry Music,
Bluetip,
The Smoke,
Heaven 17,
Bush Tetras,
Hashim,
Letta Mbulu,
The Names,
The Associates,
Bang On A Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Steve Hackett,
DNA,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.