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 Syria and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Siglo XX,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Leaves,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Matthew Bourne,
Parry Music,
Barry Ungar,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Talk Talk,
The Wake,
Sun City Girls,
The Cure,
Arab on Radar,
The Buckinghams,
The J.B.'s,
Monks,
Pagans,
The Star Department,
The Modern Lovers,
Pulsallama,
Pylon,
Erykah Badu,
Radiohead,
Technova,
the Germs,
David McCallum,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Urselle,
Lyres,
Robert Görl,
The Fuzztones,
Tears for Fears,
Tomorrow,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Mummies,
Swans,
Scan 7,
Tom Boy,
Godley & Creme,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crash Course in Science,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Gladiators,
Albert Ayler,
Q and Not U,
Judy Mowatt,
Stereo Dub,
Pole,
Black Sheep,
Tommy Roe,
the Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
Youth Brigade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kurtis Blow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sugar Minott,
Aloha Tigers,
Ten City,
The Young Rascals,
The Slackers,
Quando Quango,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.