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 Colombia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Nils Olav to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
The Residents,
Slick Rick,
Avey Tare,
The Stooges,
The Victims,
Surgeon,
The Trojans,
Quantec,
Pierre Henry,
Duran Duran,
Babytalk,
Goldenarms,
Boz Scaggs,
Sound Behaviour,
X-101,
Leonard Cohen,
Faust,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
8 Eyed Spy,
Simply Red,
Bobby Byrd,
Audionom,
Q and Not U,
the Human League,
Moebius,
Crispian St. Peters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neu!,
Ralphi Rosario,
Icehouse,
Alice Coltrane,
John Holt,
Graham Central Station,
The Gap Band,
The Star Department,
Y Pants,
The Music Machine,
China Crisis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Monks,
The Last Poets,
Flash Fearless,
Ronan,
Toni Rubio,
T.S.O.L.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Inner City,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masters at Work,
X-Ray Spex,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Motions,
Echospace,
T. Rex,
Marcia Griffiths,
Drive Like Jehu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Second Layer,
Los Fastidios,
Rapeman,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.