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 Madagascar and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the jazz 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Joyce Sims,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang Starr,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fortunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Move,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Negative Approach,
Accadde A,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
Livin' Joy,
Mad Mike,
Lindisfarne,
a-ha,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Electric Prunes,
Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Trojans,
Minnie Riperton,
The Mummies,
Ken Boothe,
Pylon,
EPMD,
Scott Walker,
Chris & Cosey,
the Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Liliput,
Eric Dolphy,
K-Klass,
Scion,
Intrusion,
Harpers Bizarre,
Basic Channel,
Charles Mingus,
Rufus Thomas,
Kayak,
Magazine,
Goldenarms,
Amazonics,
UT,
X-Ray Spex,
Ice-T,
Quantec,
Yusef Lateef,
Subhumans,
Unwound,
Tubeway Army,
The Smoke,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rod Modell,
Gong,
Roger Hodgson,
Khruangbin,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.