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 Suriname and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin 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 Darondo to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
The Doors,
Lower 48,
The Neon Judgement,
Trumans Water,
Lucky Dragons,
The Last Poets,
Newcleus,
Adolescents,
Maurizio,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roxette,
The Remains,
Nils Olav,
Darondo,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sonics,
AZ,
The Smiths,
Bobby Womack,
Guru Guru,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boredoms,
Lyres,
Derrick Morgan,
Mark Hollis,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Suicide,
Zapp,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Arcadia,
The Fire Engines,
Babytalk,
Erykah Badu,
Nirvana,
Eric B and Rakim,
Swell Maps,
Brothers Johnson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masters at Work,
Desert Stars,
Tom Boy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Lydon,
The Leaves,
T. Rex,
Fela Kuti,
the Soft Cell,
The Blackbyrds,
Lightning Bolt,
MDC,
Bad Manners,
Heaven 17,
New Age Steppers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Avey Tare,
Silicon Teens,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.