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 Papua New Guinea and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Donny Hathaway to the funk 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Zero Boys,
Ponytail,
Desert Stars,
Sonic Youth,
The Names,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Toni Rubio,
The United States of America,
Bobby Womack,
kango's stein massive,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Infiniti,
Easy Going,
Depeche Mode,
Lightning Bolt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eden Ahbez,
Alphaville,
Cybotron,
Index,
Sam Rivers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Porter Ricks,
Duran Duran,
The Velvet Underground,
Skarface,
Khruangbin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Agent Orange,
Reuben Wilson,
Warsaw,
MDC,
Eric B and Rakim,
MC5,
Sällskapet,
The Slits,
Robert Wyatt,
Echospace,
Funky Four + One,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harmonia,
Tim Buckley,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mission of Burma,
Nick Fraelich,
Gong,
Yellowson,
Con Funk Shun,
The Seeds,
Sun City Girls,
Essential Logic,
Graham Central Station,
Althea and Donna,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eric Dolphy,
Adolescents,
Tom Boy,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.