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 Uzbekistan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the disco 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Buzzcocks,
Siglo XX,
the Human League,
Das Ding,
The Searchers,
Danielle Patucci,
X-Ray Spex,
Kurtis Blow,
Desert Stars,
Tom Boy,
Amon Düül,
Throbbing Gristle,
Y Pants,
Blossom Toes,
Donny Hathaway,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eden Ahbez,
Avey Tare,
Unrelated Segments,
The Evens,
The Mummies,
World's Most,
Von Mondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soft Cell,
The Beau Brummels,
Half Japanese,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Vogues,
Robert Görl,
Joyce Sims,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fortunes,
The Real Kids,
The Golliwogs,
Bill Wells,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fuzztones,
Pierre Henry,
The Cramps,
Sister Nancy,
The Zeros,
Minutemen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mojo Men,
Theoretical Girls,
Nico,
Soul II Soul,
The Martian,
Pagans,
Minor Threat,
Skarface,
Underground Resistance,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Delta 5,
Average White Band,
Malaria!,
the Association,
Eddi Front,
Sun Ra,
Patti Smith,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.