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 Serbia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 Loose Ends to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Johnny Clarke,
Average White Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
London Community Gospel Choir,
K-Klass,
Man Parrish,
Hasil Adkins,
Rotary Connection,
It's A Beautiful Day,
James White and The Blacks,
Eddi Front,
David Bowie,
Bush Tetras,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roy Ayers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donald Byrd,
The Blues Magoos,
X-Ray Spex,
Girls At Our Best!,
Boredoms,
Main Source,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Coltrane,
Sam Rivers,
Flash Fearless,
Suburban Knight,
EPMD,
Gerry Rafferty,
Au Pairs,
Swans,
Isaac Hayes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fatback Band,
Erykah Badu,
Qualms,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fad Gadget,
The Gun Club,
the Association,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scientists,
The Detroit Cobras,
Warsaw,
Dark Day,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brass Construction,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols,
Intrusion,
Procol Harum,
The Electric Prunes,
The Moody Blues,
Lyres,
The Martian,
The Divine Comedy,
Infiniti,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.