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 Guatemala and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Copenhagen and Taipei.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the grunge 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Charles Mingus,
Angry Samoans,
Yaz,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Walker Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
The Invisible,
Pussy Galore,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Skatalites,
Boredoms,
Ronan,
Bill Wells,
Fela Kuti,
Little Man,
Laurel Aitken,
The Buckinghams,
The Dave Clark Five,
Graham Central Station,
Arthur Verocai,
Duran Duran,
Black Bananas,
The Velvet Underground,
the Human League,
Au Pairs,
Tres Demented,
Masters at Work,
The Index,
David Axelrod,
Vainqueur,
X-Ray Spex,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DJ Style,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pole,
Barbara Tucker,
The Seeds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Heaven 17,
EPMD,
Davy DMX,
The Monochrome Set,
Lalo Schifrin,
Outsiders,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rapeman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Alice Coltrane,
June of 44,
Pharoah Sanders,
Simply Red,
Thompson Twins,
Grey Daturas,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nirvana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Oneida,
Mary Jane Girls,
Suburban Knight,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.