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 Nicaragua and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mandrill to the crunk 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
Pierre Henry,
Agitation Free,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Remains,
The Cramps,
The Offenders,
Nation of Ulysses,
Y Pants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barbara Tucker,
Zero Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Germs,
Hardrive,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Mojo Men,
Throbbing Gristle,
Audionom,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Christie,
Piero Umiliani,
Maleditus Sound,
Television,
Bluetip,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
E-Dancer,
Shuggie Otis,
Harmonia,
New York Dolls,
Skaos,
Mad Mike,
Average White Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Gabor Szabo,
X-Ray Spex,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scan 7,
the Association,
Moby Grape,
Tim Buckley,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Massinfluence,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crispy Ambulance,
Avey Tare,
Roger Hodgson,
Danielle Patucci,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Womack,
Can,
Stetsasonic,
Pet Shop Boys,
Easy Going,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.