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 South Africa and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Charles Mingus to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Vainqueur,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Seeds,
Cal Tjader,
Archie Shepp,
Gang of Four,
The Moody Blues,
The Vogues,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
The Cowsills,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bronski Beat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nirvana,
Throbbing Gristle,
Connie Case,
Harmonia,
Crooked Eye,
Supertramp,
Das Ding,
Neu!,
Warsaw,
Agent Orange,
Gabor Szabo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Anthony Braxton,
Stetsasonic,
Jacques Brel,
Wings,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marine Girls,
The Golliwogs,
Suicide,
Nas,
Steve Hackett,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultravox,
John Lydon,
Albert Ayler,
Ornette Coleman,
Soul II Soul,
Pole,
The Dirtbombs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Deadbeat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soft Machine,
Hoover,
Zero Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Loose Ends,
The Toasters,
Stereo Dub,
Thompson Twins,
Mr. Review,
Nation of Ulysses,
T.S.O.L.,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.