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 Afghanistan and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Gang of Four to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Durutti Column,
Stiv Bators,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gastr Del Sol,
Carl Craig,
Mantronix,
Excepter,
Make Up,
Steve Hackett,
Youth Brigade,
John Coltrane,
Barbara Tucker,
Bill Wells,
Television Personalities,
Bill Near,
Boz Scaggs,
Donald Byrd,
ABC,
Laurel Aitken,
Tomorrow,
The Shadows of Knight,
June of 44,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Agent Orange,
Royal Trux,
Heaven 17,
The Fugs,
Peter & Gordon,
Inner City,
Das Ding,
LL Cool J,
Colin Newman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Warsaw,
10cc,
Girls At Our Best!,
Zero Boys,
Supertramp,
A Certain Ratio,
the Swans,
Magazine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Livin' Joy,
Peter and Kerry,
Drexciya,
B.T. Express,
Shoche,
Accadde A,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sarah Menescal,
The Moody Blues,
The Leaves,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Victims,
Thee Headcoats,
X-102,
Black Flag,
Jacques Brel,
Lower 48,
The Cramps,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.