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 Georgia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer 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 LL Cool J to the rap 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
D'Angelo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tim Buckley,
Can,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Searchers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
L. Decosne,
Hasil Adkins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wire,
The Pretty Things,
Pulsallama,
Joey Negro,
The Cure,
T. Rex,
Scan 7,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Lydon,
Popol Vuh,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sex Pistols,
Vainqueur,
Urselle,
Blossom Toes,
The Victims,
Con Funk Shun,
Joe Finger,
Kenny Larkin,
The Star Department,
Gang of Four,
Subhumans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Absolute Body Control,
Interpol,
EPMD,
Anakelly,
Groovy Waters,
Arthur Verocai,
Byron Stingily,
Isaac Hayes,
The Doobie Brothers,
David Bowie,
The Grass Roots,
Harmonia,
Mandrill,
The Raincoats,
The Slackers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bad Manners,
Boz Scaggs,
Moss Icon,
Magma,
The Red Krayola,
Peter & Gordon,
Gang Starr,
Black Flag,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.