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 Poland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 The New Christs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Andrew Hill,
Jeff Lynne,
John Coltrane,
Brand Nubian,
Lalann,
Brick,
The Five Americans,
Fatback Band,
The Saints,
Donny Hathaway,
Maleditus Sound,
Ten City,
Black Moon,
The Dead C,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Second Layer,
Joe Finger,
Soul II Soul,
Cheater Slicks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Howard Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
Cal Tjader,
Kayak,
David Bowie,
Wire,
Negative Approach,
Monks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cluster,
Joensuu 1685,
Danielle Patucci,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Maurizio,
Ice-T,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Agitation Free,
Heaven 17,
Mark Hollis,
Accadde A,
Fela Kuti,
Hasil Adkins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Swans,
The Smoke,
Reuben Wilson,
The Residents,
Lyres,
Mr. Review,
X-102,
Bootsy Collins,
The Smiths,
Ludus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Arab on Radar,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crash Course in Science,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.