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 Antigua and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Toni Rubio to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Warren Ellis,
John Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skarface,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dual Sessions,
Sixth Finger,
The Monochrome Set,
Curtis Mayfield,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spoonie Gee,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Clear Light,
David Bowie,
The Human League,
Ultravox,
Niagra,
Lower 48,
Vladislav Delay,
Wings,
Faraquet,
Byron Stingily,
MDC,
Brand Nubian,
Young Marble Giants,
The Names,
Cecil Taylor,
Neil Young,
The Zeros,
Johnny Osbourne,
New Age Steppers,
Television,
Bauhaus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scion,
DJ Sneak,
The Durutti Column,
Jacques Brel,
Boredoms,
The Cure,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Reed,
Wolf Eyes,
Johnny Clarke,
Public Enemy,
Talk Talk,
The Smoke,
The Standells,
Junior Murvin,
Maurizio,
Cheater Slicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Joyce Sims,
The Happenings,
Lungfish,
Mandrill,
Magazine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.