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 Botswana and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Bobby Byrd to the techno 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
The Mummies,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sixth Finger,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Youth Brigade,
Althea and Donna,
B.T. Express,
Von Mondo,
The Slackers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Babytalk,
The Cure,
Ornette Coleman,
The Residents,
FM Einheit,
Wally Richardson,
Blossom Toes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sparks,
Zapp,
The Doors,
Wire,
Reuben Wilson,
The Seeds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Saints,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Andrew Hill,
Isaac Hayes,
This Heat,
Darondo,
Lightning Bolt,
Crash Course in Science,
Sugar Minott,
Kenny Larkin,
Boredoms,
Bobby Womack,
The Dead C,
One Last Wish,
Kerrie Biddell,
DJ Style,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Music Machine,
K-Klass,
The Skatalites,
Todd Rundgren,
Gichy Dan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Monolake,
Albert Ayler,
Black Bananas,
The Victims,
Silicon Teens,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Heaven 17,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.