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 Philippines and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Popol Vuh,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mark Hollis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Whodini,
Ponytail,
Rotary Connection,
Yellowson,
Porter Ricks,
The Music Machine,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Danielle Patucci,
Pere Ubu,
Zapp,
Magazine,
Patti Smith,
Brass Construction,
Marine Girls,
Robert Hood,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hoover,
Scan 7,
Harry Pussy,
Ultimate Spinach,
JFA,
The Associates,
Marmalade,
Peter and Kerry,
Roger Hodgson,
Camberwell Now,
Rod Modell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Circle Jerks,
Urselle,
Oneida,
X-Ray Spex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aloha Tigers,
Pole,
8 Eyed Spy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
New Order,
The Count Five,
Steve Hackett,
PIL,
Lindisfarne,
Mad Mike,
Scientists,
The Index,
Chrome,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultra Naté,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Real Kids,
Banda Bassotti,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Second Layer,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Supertramp,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.