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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Underground Resistance to the crunk 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Motorama,
Marvin Gaye,
Boz Scaggs,
Scratch Acid,
Main Source,
Tres Demented,
Massinfluence,
In Retrospect,
K-Klass,
Black Flag,
The Toasters,
Agitation Free,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mad Mike,
H. Thieme,
Severed Heads,
Mars,
Mandrill,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bad Manners,
Malaria!,
Hasil Adkins,
Metal Thangz,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barry Ungar,
Albert Ayler,
Harmonia,
DNA,
Television Personalities,
Bootsy Collins,
Unrelated Segments,
Stereo Dub,
Jacob Miller,
The Moody Blues,
Amazonics,
Ken Boothe,
New Order,
Suicide,
Swell Maps,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crash Course in Science,
The Motions,
Anakelly,
The Fortunes,
Q and Not U,
MC5,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roxette,
Sam Rivers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nirvana,
Wings,
Flipper,
Spandau Ballet,
Lakeside,
Siglo XX,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.