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 Eritrea and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grunge 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Barrington Levy,
The Neon Judgement,
Monolake,
Stiv Bators,
Inner City,
Pussy Galore,
Sun Ra,
Jeff Lynne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Max Romeo,
Peter & Gordon,
Tres Demented,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Cramps,
Marvin Gaye,
The United States of America,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Remains,
Lucky Dragons,
Index,
Supertramp,
The Toasters,
Nico,
Anakelly,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
Metal Thangz,
Neu!,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Public Image Ltd.,
Maleditus Sound,
Hasil Adkins,
Aloha Tigers,
Country Teasers,
Deepchord,
Subhumans,
Interpol,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Underground Resistance,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hashim,
Colin Newman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Loose Ends,
Mission of Burma,
The Seeds,
James White and The Blacks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dirtbombs,
Essential Logic,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Offenders,
The Human League,
Tim Buckley,
Zapp,
Connie Case,
Scott Walker,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.