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 Turkmenistan and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
One Last Wish,
The Grass Roots,
Pylon,
The Vogues,
Smog,
Eric Copeland,
The Buckinghams,
Harpers Bizarre,
Todd Rundgren,
Jeff Mills,
Jerry's Kids,
Funky Four + One,
Al Stewart,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slits,
Eli Mardock,
Massinfluence,
The Monks,
the Human League,
Marc Almond,
Radiohead,
Swans,
Simply Red,
Parry Music,
The Saints,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Slick Rick,
Kas Product,
Eric Dolphy,
John Lydon,
John Coltrane,
Mad Mike,
Procol Harum,
Magma,
OOIOO,
Half Japanese,
EPMD,
Royal Trux,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
H. Thieme,
Technova,
Spoonie Gee,
Cybotron,
Patti Smith,
Blake Baxter,
Duran Duran,
Shoche,
Mandrill,
Tomorrow,
Nico,
Moby Grape,
The Fugs,
Neil Young,
L. Decosne,
Cecil Taylor,
48th St. Collective,
Letta Mbulu,
Public Enemy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Beau Brummels,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.