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 Chile and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Monolake,
Bobby Sherman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Banda Bassotti,
Q and Not U,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rotary Connection,
Moebius,
The Gap Band,
Faraquet,
Warsaw,
The Names,
Parry Music,
Saccharine Trust,
The Saints,
the Bar-Kays,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lungfish,
Charles Mingus,
Mars,
The Residents,
Cheater Slicks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nas,
Lightning Bolt,
Young Marble Giants,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reuben Wilson,
Unwound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Howard Jones,
Crispy Ambulance,
Supertramp,
Procol Harum,
The Dirtbombs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
PIL,
Accadde A,
Morten Harket,
Darondo,
Whodini,
Mission of Burma,
Swans,
Gang Starr,
ABC,
Hoover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kerri Chandler,
Funky Four + One,
The Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
Amon Düül,
Simply Red,
Gerry Rafferty,
Maurizio,
Soft Machine,
Infiniti,
Camouflage,
Eric Dolphy,
Michelle Simonal,
Mr. Review,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.