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 Cyprus and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Donald Byrd to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fear,
China Crisis,
The Evens,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Iggy Pop,
Vladislav Delay,
Barbara Tucker,
Flamin' Groovies,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Metal Thangz,
B.T. Express,
Tommy Roe,
Bill Near,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hoover,
Lucky Dragons,
Liliput,
The New Christs,
Chrome,
Cymande,
Crime,
8 Eyed Spy,
Make Up,
Pulsallama,
Royal Trux,
Heaven 17,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Happenings,
Talk Talk,
World's Most,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gichy Dan,
Isaac Hayes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cybotron,
The Toasters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Smiths,
The Litter,
Donny Hathaway,
JFA,
The Searchers,
The Busters,
Camberwell Now,
David Axelrod,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Newcleus,
Yellowson,
The Names,
Marc Almond,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Skarface,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.