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 Brunei and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron 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 The Walker Brothers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang Starr,
Connie Case,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fall,
Sun Ra,
48th St. Collective,
the Swans,
Circle Jerks,
The Standells,
Rapeman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cecil Taylor,
DNA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lakeside,
The Move,
The Tremeloes,
Joensuu 1685,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Smoke,
Man Parrish,
Donny Hathaway,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
In Retrospect,
Clear Light,
Pylon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Depeche Mode,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
EPMD,
Outsiders,
The Buckinghams,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deadbeat,
New York Dolls,
Bronski Beat,
The Slackers,
the Germs,
Barbara Tucker,
John Foxx,
The Seeds,
Bobby Womack,
B.T. Express,
Johnny Clarke,
Oneida,
Drexciya,
The Residents,
Visage,
Fluxion,
Prince Buster,
Lyres,
The Raincoats,
X-102,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rosa Yemen,
Adolescents,
Fat Boys,
Scott Walker,
Jacob Miller,
Idris Muhammad,
T.S.O.L.,
Harmonia,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.