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 Samoa and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Saints to the grunge 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Hoover,
Interpol,
Jimmy McGriff,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
LL Cool J,
The Durutti Column,
Roger Hodgson,
Groovy Waters,
Aaron Thompson,
Wolf Eyes,
Tomorrow,
Barry Ungar,
Derrick Morgan,
Young Marble Giants,
Gang of Four,
CMW,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jacques Brel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Model 500,
Mars,
Trumans Water,
Wire,
Amon Düül II,
Matthew Bourne,
Rotary Connection,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ice-T,
X-101,
The Evens,
Michelle Simonal,
Nas,
Shuggie Otis,
The Red Krayola,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Desert Stars,
Subhumans,
Flash Fearless,
Underground Resistance,
The Vogues,
E-Dancer,
The Divine Comedy,
Funkadelic,
The Neon Judgement,
Juan Atkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Motions,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hashim,
Rosa Yemen,
Audionom,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fire Engines,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
K-Klass,
Marine Girls,
The New Christs,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.