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 Colombia and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Hutcherson to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Popol Vuh,
Chrome,
Peter & Gordon,
Thee Headcoats,
Symarip,
Whodini,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neu!,
Eve St. Jones,
Shuggie Otis,
These Immortal Souls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Darondo,
Gang of Four,
Minnie Riperton,
Amazonics,
John Coltrane,
Minor Threat,
Jacques Brel,
Blossom Toes,
Toni Rubio,
Guru Guru,
Boredoms,
Yaz,
Lou Christie,
The Doobie Brothers,
Second Layer,
The Busters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ten City,
Trumans Water,
Liliput,
Subhumans,
Con Funk Shun,
Franke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
H. Thieme,
The Blackbyrds,
John Lydon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Inner City,
Fat Boys,
The Real Kids,
Matthew Bourne,
Suburban Knight,
The Gap Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roxette,
MDC,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang Gang Dance,
Echospace,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sonny Sharrock,
World's Most,
Ponytail,
Marmalade,
The Grass Roots,
The Buckinghams,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.