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 Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Aaron Thompson to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
A Certain Ratio,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Organ,
Eli Mardock,
Drexciya,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fugazi,
K-Klass,
Alphaville,
Harpers Bizarre,
Minutemen,
The Walker Brothers,
The Music Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Chris & Cosey,
Bob Dylan,
The Offenders,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Red Krayola,
Pagans,
Joyce Sims,
Banda Bassotti,
Pet Shop Boys,
Desert Stars,
Al Stewart,
Charles Mingus,
Minnie Riperton,
Robert Wyatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fuzztones,
Harmonia,
Scott Walker,
Bad Manners,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crooked Eye,
Average White Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Model 500,
Ossler,
John Coltrane,
Roxette,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Niagra,
Mantronix,
Black Moon,
Ronnie Foster,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bang On A Can,
The Kinks,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick May,
Ornette Coleman,
Dawn Penn,
New Order,
Patti Smith,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.