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 Cuba and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
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 rhodes 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 Fugs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes 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 marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Metal Thangz,
Circle Jerks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Underground Resistance,
Rufus Thomas,
Donald Byrd,
Au Pairs,
Goldenarms,
Easy Going,
The Raincoats,
Fatback Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Remains,
Glenn Branca,
Isaac Hayes,
Aaron Thompson,
Eddi Front,
R.M.O.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Index,
Jandek,
The Dave Clark Five,
a-ha,
The Buckinghams,
Barrington Levy,
Joensuu 1685,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Kinks,
X-101,
Crime,
Lucky Dragons,
The Dirtbombs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rosa Yemen,
Amazonics,
Gichy Dan,
Liliput,
Kerri Chandler,
One Last Wish,
Inner City,
John Lydon,
Chris & Cosey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Robert Hood,
Lalann,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Peter & Gordon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jacques Brel,
Main Source,
The Dead C,
Tears for Fears,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cure,
DNA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.