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 Togo and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Michael McDonald 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 Al Stewart to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
The Smoke,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cybotron,
The Offenders,
The Real Kids,
Maleditus Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eden Ahbez,
Skaos,
Peter & Gordon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jawbox,
James White and The Blacks,
ABC,
EPMD,
T.S.O.L.,
Spandau Ballet,
Procol Harum,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Mummies,
The Human League,
Josef K,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Young Rascals,
Icehouse,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boredoms,
Quando Quango,
Siglo XX,
Mr. Review,
Surgeon,
A Certain Ratio,
X-102,
Sister Nancy,
Janne Schatter,
Pantytec,
Oneida,
Nas,
Yusef Lateef,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barrington Levy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alton Ellis,
Hashim,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang of Four,
Rapeman,
Buzzcocks,
Scrapy,
Con Funk Shun,
Public Image Ltd.,
Max Romeo,
Young Marble Giants,
Japan,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.