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 Brazil and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes 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 Massinfluence to the grime 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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Mummies,
Bobby Byrd,
Silicon Teens,
B.T. Express,
Ponytail,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moby Grape,
Lower 48,
Eric Dolphy,
The Stooges,
LL Cool J,
The Saints,
Man Eating Sloth,
Danielle Patucci,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Alton Ellis,
Jeff Lynne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Patti Smith,
Hashim,
The Gories,
Marmalade,
Sun City Girls,
Groovy Waters,
Arcadia,
Albert Ayler,
Deepchord,
Dual Sessions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monks,
The Birthday Party,
The Golliwogs,
Ohio Players,
Soulsonic Force,
Dennis Brown,
The Fuzztones,
Quadrant,
Index,
Lightning Bolt,
Ossler,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Pop Group,
Khruangbin,
The Modern Lovers,
June Days,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
H. Thieme,
John Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
The Litter,
The Zeros,
The Fall,
Aural Exciters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Schoolly D,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Faust,
Goldenarms,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.