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 Bolivia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Eve St. Jones 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Morten Harket,
The Selecter,
Tres Demented,
La Düsseldorf,
Iggy Pop,
The Trojans,
Piero Umiliani,
Nas,
FM Einheit,
Organ,
Bobby Sherman,
the Slits,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Soft Cell,
Franke,
Eve St. Jones,
Robert Görl,
Henry Cow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ten City,
Groovy Waters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Birthday Party,
Rapeman,
Unwound,
F. McDonald,
Rod Modell,
The Saints,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Don Cherry,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Second Layer,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brick,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bush Tetras,
The Kinks,
Barry Ungar,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
These Immortal Souls,
Thompson Twins,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fire Engines,
Siglo XX,
Hashim,
Neil Young,
Harpers Bizarre,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.