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 Colombia and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the dance 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brick,
Connie Case,
the Association,
Magma,
Matthew Halsall,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Leaves,
X-101,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angry Samoans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Simply Red,
Soft Machine,
Banda Bassotti,
Scan 7,
Roxy Music,
Crime,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eurythmics,
DJ Style,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ultra Naté,
Todd Rundgren,
The Kinks,
Panda Bear,
JFA,
Spandau Ballet,
Main Source,
Ponytail,
The Gories,
The Litter,
Sister Nancy,
Quando Quango,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bush Tetras,
Wasted Youth,
Hasil Adkins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cybotron,
Donald Byrd,
Quantec,
Rapeman,
Eden Ahbez,
Junior Murvin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Yusef Lateef,
China Crisis,
Qualms,
Essential Logic,
Neil Young,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Niagra,
Davy DMX,
Joey Negro,
The Monks,
Symarip,
Lyres,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.