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 Netherlands and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Groovy Waters to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Suburban Knight,
Chris Corsano,
Jacob Miller,
Wally Richardson,
The Red Krayola,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Don Cherry,
Sällskapet,
Soft Cell,
One Last Wish,
Joyce Sims,
Matthew Halsall,
Mars,
Minny Pops,
Lee Hazlewood,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rotary Connection,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Heaven 17,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eve St. Jones,
UT,
Scrapy,
Monolake,
Derrick May,
Zero Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mr. Review,
Lightning Bolt,
Barry Ungar,
Quantec,
Guru Guru,
Gang Green,
Amon Düül II,
Boz Scaggs,
D'Angelo,
Harry Pussy,
Mad Mike,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dark Day,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slackers,
Tim Buckley,
Simply Red,
Icehouse,
Ludus,
Jandek,
Yellowson,
The Five Americans,
Lyres,
ABC,
Kenny Larkin,
Funky Four + One,
Gabor Szabo,
Von Mondo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Los Fastidios,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.