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 Australia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare 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 Ronan to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy Collins,
Surgeon,
A Certain Ratio,
Cameo,
Roy Ayers,
John Holt,
Jeru the Damaja,
World's Most,
James White and The Blacks,
Terry Callier,
Q65,
The Moody Blues,
Moss Icon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harpers Bizarre,
Henry Cow,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Fraelich,
Hoover,
Harmonia,
48th St. Collective,
Man Parrish,
Quadrant,
Q and Not U,
MC5,
Jeff Mills,
Wally Richardson,
Babytalk,
John Foxx,
Boogie Down Productions,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arab on Radar,
New Order,
Black Sheep,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
the Human League,
The Trojans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Darondo,
Ronnie Foster,
Y Pants,
Little Man,
Marc Almond,
Pharoah Sanders,
Zero Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
Scan 7,
Crime,
Inner City,
Alton Ellis,
The Walker Brothers,
Brick,
Rotary Connection,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Popol Vuh,
Laurel Aitken,
Ultravox,
Sparks,
Eve St. Jones,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.