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 Venezuela and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin 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 Jesper Dahlback to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
The Beau Brummels,
Urselle,
Vladislav Delay,
Idris Muhammad,
Jacques Brel,
Maleditus Sound,
Wire,
Wings,
Mark Hollis,
Bob Dylan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tres Demented,
Rekid,
Eddi Front,
Man Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
The American Breed,
Man Eating Sloth,
Make Up,
Theoretical Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eden Ahbez,
Second Layer,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Darondo,
Fear,
In Retrospect,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Groovy Waters,
Shoche,
New Order,
Roxy Music,
Stetsasonic,
The Real Kids,
Kenny Larkin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Human League,
The J.B.'s,
Babytalk,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Doobie Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Newcleus,
Japan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boredoms,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Saints,
Unwound,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Soft Cell,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Remains,
Deakin,
Graham Central Station,
Soulsonic Force,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quantec,
Scratch Acid,
Joey Negro,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.