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 Bulgaria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Ituana to the punk 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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
David Axelrod,
the Sonics,
Make Up,
Chrome,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quadrant,
Motorama,
New York Dolls,
The Searchers,
Guru Guru,
The Gories,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Charles Mingus,
The Zeros,
Hoover,
The Fugs,
Kayak,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pulsallama,
Grey Daturas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joe Smooth,
Marmalade,
Aaron Thompson,
Faraquet,
Young Marble Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kerrie Biddell,
Barry Ungar,
Main Source,
Babytalk,
Soul II Soul,
Amazonics,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric Copeland,
Faust,
Half Japanese,
Anakelly,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Clear Light,
The Music Machine,
Outsiders,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Byron Stingily,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ohio Players,
Sun City Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Barrington Levy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Silicon Teens,
Neu!,
E-Dancer,
Youth Brigade,
Eric Dolphy,
The Victims,
Sandy B,
Kool Moe Dee,
DJ Style,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.