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 Luxembourg 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bobby Byrd to the punk 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
The Tremeloes,
Rites of Spring,
Stiv Bators,
Y Pants,
The Selecter,
Bush Tetras,
Charles Mingus,
Index,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Colin Newman,
Pylon,
The Buckinghams,
June of 44,
Minor Threat,
Nils Olav,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yellowson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Derrick Morgan,
Scrapy,
The Star Department,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Starr,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Agitation Free,
Babytalk,
Sandy B,
The Dirtbombs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Goldenarms,
The Martian,
Niagra,
Henry Cow,
Cal Tjader,
Clear Light,
The Skatalites,
Faraquet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Janne Schatter,
Deakin,
The Last Poets,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Boz Scaggs,
Unwound,
The Residents,
Graham Central Station,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mummies,
The Golliwogs,
Nick Fraelich,
Amazonics,
Sugar Minott,
Half Japanese,
Joe Finger,
Zapp,
Groovy Waters,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.