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 Romania and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba 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 David McCallum to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Tommy Roe,
Dark Day,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Sherman,
Bluetip,
Anakelly,
Rufus Thomas,
Von Mondo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lyres,
Johnny Clarke,
John Coltrane,
Kas Product,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mark Hollis,
Matthew Halsall,
Camberwell Now,
Rod Modell,
Yaz,
Das Ding,
The Mummies,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brick,
48th St. Collective,
Unrelated Segments,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marine Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
One Last Wish,
Kurtis Blow,
The Slits,
The Index,
Simply Red,
Byron Stingily,
Tom Boy,
Amon Düül,
Dead Boys,
Lalann,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cluster,
The Sonics,
The Gories,
Liliput,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Toni Rubio,
Parry Music,
Todd Terry,
Mo-Dettes,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun Ra,
Gichy Dan,
Morten Harket,
Goldenarms,
Althea and Donna,
Mandrill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.