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 Guyana and from Shanghai.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mantronix to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Sound,
Fela Kuti,
the Association,
Tears for Fears,
U.S. Maple,
Eric Copeland,
The Litter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Duran Duran,
Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Josef K,
Nils Olav,
Wasted Youth,
Laurel Aitken,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Organ,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Womack,
La Düsseldorf,
Inner City,
The Human League,
Deakin,
Sun City Girls,
The Fugs,
Mad Mike,
Monks,
Supertramp,
The Star Department,
Pulsallama,
Tomorrow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fad Gadget,
Gang Green,
Eric B and Rakim,
Popol Vuh,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harry Pussy,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Searchers,
Black Flag,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scion,
Eddi Front,
Lyres,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lakeside,
The Trojans,
Soft Machine,
Fear,
Gichy Dan,
the Soft Cell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
The J.B.'s,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.