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 Croatia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
ABBA,
R.M.O.,
Arcadia,
Niagra,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harry Pussy,
Bauhaus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Moss Icon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
T.S.O.L.,
New Age Steppers,
48th St. Collective,
Index,
Black Pus,
Nico,
Pagans,
Das Ding,
The Pop Group,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pulsallama,
Simply Red,
Rod Modell,
The Pretty Things,
Japan,
Grauzone,
Bobby Sherman,
Rekid,
Jacques Brel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Normal,
James White and The Blacks,
Cheater Slicks,
Fad Gadget,
Altered Images,
Junior Murvin,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Rotary Connection,
John Cale,
Anthony Braxton,
Wally Richardson,
The Velvet Underground,
The New Christs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Donald Byrd,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Buckinghams,
the Sonics,
The Index,
Newcleus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bob Dylan,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.