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 Austria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 John Holt to the rock 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Sarah Menescal,
Gang Starr,
Alice Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Franke,
The Fuzztones,
The Seeds,
The Slits,
Robert Görl,
Wolf Eyes,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Soft Cell,
Dual Sessions,
Livin' Joy,
Black Pus,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Janne Schatter,
Gang of Four,
Patti Smith,
The Skatalites,
Desert Stars,
Nico,
The Angels of Light,
Sällskapet,
Animal Collective,
The Barracudas,
Joensuu 1685,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mars,
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Theoretical Girls,
Lindisfarne,
Crooked Eye,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Maurizio,
Brothers Johnson,
Al Stewart,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Interpol,
Kerri Chandler,
Audionom,
Harmonia,
Sugar Minott,
Idris Muhammad,
PIL,
The Detroit Cobras,
Popol Vuh,
One Last Wish,
Duran Duran,
Soul II Soul,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.