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 Slovakia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Youth Brigade to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultra Naté,
Henry Cow,
Harmonia,
Q and Not U,
Marvin Gaye,
Agent Orange,
June Days,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tres Demented,
Chris & Cosey,
The Walker Brothers,
Erykah Badu,
Newcleus,
Scrapy,
Wire,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Arcadia,
Deadbeat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Isaac Hayes,
Goldenarms,
D'Angelo,
The Grass Roots,
Public Image Ltd.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Vladislav Delay,
DNA,
Rod Modell,
Hardrive,
Swell Maps,
Porter Ricks,
X-Ray Spex,
Joy Division,
Michelle Simonal,
The Alarm Clocks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rufus Thomas,
Thompson Twins,
Sam Rivers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tomorrow,
Severed Heads,
Alice Coltrane,
Bauhaus,
Throbbing Gristle,
Albert Ayler,
Organ,
Liliput,
Average White Band,
Don Cherry,
Rapeman,
Rotary Connection,
Livin' Joy,
Oneida,
Can,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.