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 Laos 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blossom Toes 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Sherman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Saccharine Trust,
Circle Jerks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Duran Duran,
Tommy Roe,
Loose Ends,
The Last Poets,
Slave,
Stereo Dub,
Mad Mike,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fugazi,
Make Up,
Absolute Body Control,
the Swans,
Minny Pops,
Joey Negro,
Moby Grape,
Quando Quango,
Sex Pistols,
The Gories,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bronski Beat,
The Music Machine,
June Days,
Section 25,
Quantec,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Holt,
Blancmange,
This Heat,
Parry Music,
Cecil Taylor,
Zapp,
Scion,
Bill Near,
Marcia Griffiths,
Barbara Tucker,
June of 44,
Donald Byrd,
Nirvana,
Rosa Yemen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Procol Harum,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nas,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Sheep,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nico,
Donny Hathaway,
Aswad,
Lungfish,
Pantaleimon,
Sugar Minott,
Sällskapet,
Half Japanese,
Altered Images,
The Kinks,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.