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 Senegal and from Accra.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Electric Prunes to the crunk 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Andrew Hill,
Whodini,
ABC,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lungfish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neil Young,
Q65,
Janne Schatter,
Susan Cadogan,
Urselle,
The Cure,
Roxette,
Terry Callier,
Shuggie Otis,
Brick,
The Buckinghams,
Massinfluence,
Eli Mardock,
Ultimate Spinach,
Motorama,
The Five Americans,
Peter & Gordon,
Dark Day,
Ultravox,
Ten City,
Toni Rubio,
OOIOO,
Groovy Waters,
Subhumans,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Pus,
Talk Talk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aural Exciters,
Gabor Szabo,
Supertramp,
Los Fastidios,
the Soft Cell,
Icehouse,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Leaves,
The Wake,
A Certain Ratio,
The Gories,
Roy Ayers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Womack,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
Piero Umiliani,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Selecter,
Swell Maps,
the Slits,
Black Sheep,
KRS-One,
The Fortunes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Grass Roots,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.