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 Cuba and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gregory Isaacs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum 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 chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Boz Scaggs,
Terry Callier,
Aaron Thompson,
the Normal,
Quando Quango,
Cameo,
Franke,
Althea and Donna,
New York Dolls,
Sun City Girls,
Eurythmics,
China Crisis,
The Fugs,
Jacques Brel,
Warren Ellis,
The Tremeloes,
Joe Finger,
The Dave Clark Five,
Surgeon,
Fugazi,
Funky Four + One,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Leaves,
X-Ray Spex,
The Human League,
Eddi Front,
Nik Kershaw,
Y Pants,
Bronski Beat,
Johnny Osbourne,
June of 44,
Sunsets and Hearts,
John Cale,
Nico,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Delta 5,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Aswad,
Marcia Griffiths,
Don Cherry,
Newcleus,
Cheater Slicks,
Hardrive,
Jimmy McGriff,
Charles Mingus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ken Boothe,
Magma,
Scott Walker,
Camberwell Now,
Barclay James Harvest,
Radiohead,
Eden Ahbez,
Stiv Bators,
Silicon Teens,
Kaleidoscope,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aloha Tigers,
Jawbox,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.