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 Honduras and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 Frankie Knuckles to the disco 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stetsasonic,
Archie Shepp,
Rakim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pierre Henry,
Amon Düül II,
David Axelrod,
Tears for Fears,
Frankie Knuckles,
Traffic Nightmare,
Average White Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Q and Not U,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hashim,
Organ,
The Monochrome Set,
Main Source,
Lower 48,
Mr. Review,
The Offenders,
10cc,
Ronan,
Black Flag,
The Litter,
Roger Hodgson,
John Cale,
This Heat,
Todd Rundgren,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Slave,
Minutemen,
The Gladiators,
Minny Pops,
The Blues Magoos,
Joyce Sims,
Grauzone,
Motorama,
Reuben Wilson,
A Certain Ratio,
cv313,
Blancmange,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Womack,
Dual Sessions,
Los Fastidios,
Eric Copeland,
The Shadows of Knight,
China Crisis,
Theoretical Girls,
Sex Pistols,
The Index,
Infiniti,
Deakin,
ABBA,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pere Ubu,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.