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 Ivory Coast and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Simply Red,
Tres Demented,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Desert Stars,
Model 500,
Swell Maps,
Section 25,
Ronan,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Monolake,
Country Teasers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Janne Schatter,
Althea and Donna,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eric Dolphy,
Crispy Ambulance,
MC5,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gladiators,
Nas,
Ohio Players,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nik Kershaw,
Hot Snakes,
The Seeds,
Das Ding,
Ossler,
Franke,
Rotary Connection,
Massinfluence,
Kool Moe Dee,
Malaria!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Michelle Simonal,
Parry Music,
Blake Baxter,
Make Up,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joey Negro,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
JFA,
The Wake,
Magma,
Inner City,
The Sonics,
Lalann,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Hood,
X-102,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Sonics,
Ultra Naté,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.