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 San Marino and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lalo Schifrin to the rap 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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Johnny Clarke,
Girls At Our Best!,
Model 500,
The Cure,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
X-Ray Spex,
Ituana,
Tomorrow,
Tears for Fears,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amon Düül,
Cheater Slicks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kerri Chandler,
Joe Finger,
Malaria!,
Roy Ayers,
Michelle Simonal,
Khruangbin,
X-102,
Barbara Tucker,
Ornette Coleman,
Mad Mike,
Mo-Dettes,
Max Romeo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Althea and Donna,
DJ Sneak,
Con Funk Shun,
The Motions,
Magma,
Masters at Work,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultravox,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thompson Twins,
Donny Hathaway,
Scientists,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scion,
Monks,
Flash Fearless,
Rod Modell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Metal Thangz,
Henry Cow,
The Names,
The Real Kids,
Siglo XX,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Toasters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soft Machine,
The Associates,
Guru Guru,
Japan,
The Victims,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.