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 Algeria and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the grunge 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Bob Dylan,
Popol Vuh,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Christie,
Mr. Review,
Marvin Gaye,
Steve Hackett,
Accadde A,
Von Mondo,
the Human League,
Gang Starr,
Youth Brigade,
Ronan,
Alton Ellis,
Second Layer,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Depeche Mode,
Charles Mingus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tim Buckley,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kenny Larkin,
K-Klass,
Little Man,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pet Shop Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Kinks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kool Moe Dee,
Man Parrish,
Thompson Twins,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cal Tjader,
Pulsallama,
The Sound,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eddi Front,
Organ,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
F. McDonald,
Fela Kuti,
Joe Finger,
The Gladiators,
Howard Jones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Matthew Halsall,
The Litter,
Idris Muhammad,
The Victims,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rufus Thomas,
Joy Division,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Music Machine,
The Knickerbockers,
Aaron Thompson,
Scion,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.