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 Kenya and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Echospace to the electroclash 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Patti Smith,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lee Hazlewood,
U.S. Maple,
Y Pants,
Godley & Creme,
Ice-T,
Pagans,
Flash Fearless,
Rotary Connection,
Pole,
Livin' Joy,
Carl Craig,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Prince Buster,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Todd Rundgren,
Parry Music,
Kayak,
Con Funk Shun,
Judy Mowatt,
Wally Richardson,
The Stooges,
Tom Boy,
Quantec,
Amon Düül,
The Doors,
Ludus,
Dark Day,
cv313,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ornette Coleman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Associates,
Qualms,
Byron Stingily,
MDC,
Sun Ra,
Boredoms,
Funkadelic,
The Red Krayola,
Mark Hollis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Slackers,
Pulsallama,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lightning Bolt,
China Crisis,
Delta 5,
David Bowie,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dawn Penn,
Eve St. Jones,
Monks,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.