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 Cape Verde and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe 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 Scion to the jazz 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Scientists,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Electric Prunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moby Grape,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric B and Rakim,
New Order,
The Trojans,
Sandy B,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hot Snakes,
Jandek,
Derrick Morgan,
New York Dolls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Janne Schatter,
The Durutti Column,
Fatback Band,
Radiohead,
Scion,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Loose Ends,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lungfish,
Tears for Fears,
Patti Smith,
Television,
OOIOO,
Newcleus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Procol Harum,
Guru Guru,
Tom Boy,
Jawbox,
Letta Mbulu,
Soul II Soul,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cowsills,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Darondo,
The Five Americans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Quando Quango,
La Düsseldorf,
Public Image Ltd.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lucky Dragons,
The Kinks,
The Index,
The Mojo Men,
Wasted Youth,
the Association,
The Birthday Party,
Sight & Sound,
Deakin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.