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 Nauru and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Fat Boys to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
The Dead C,
Suburban Knight,
Spoonie Gee,
Funkadelic,
Goldenarms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Godley & Creme,
Andrew Hill,
Matthew Halsall,
DJ Sneak,
Faust,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
DNA,
The J.B.'s,
The Standells,
Desert Stars,
the Fania All-Stars,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Buzzcocks,
Absolute Body Control,
Joy Division,
Bush Tetras,
Cluster,
the Germs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soul II Soul,
Jacques Brel,
The Blackbyrds,
Brothers Johnson,
Malaria!,
Von Mondo,
Yaz,
Stiv Bators,
Glenn Branca,
Young Marble Giants,
Dark Day,
Marine Girls,
The Searchers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Section 25,
Quantec,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Last Poets,
Michelle Simonal,
Anthony Braxton,
Outsiders,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Archie Shepp,
Q and Not U,
Todd Terry,
the Normal,
Donald Byrd,
Deepchord,
Angry Samoans,
the Human League,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.