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 Algeria and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Amon Düül II to the jazz 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pussy Galore,
Gichy Dan,
The New Christs,
Monks,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nils Olav,
X-101,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Byrd,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Human League,
Anakelly,
The Standells,
The Star Department,
Tres Demented,
The Grass Roots,
Joe Finger,
Tom Boy,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dirtbombs,
The Red Krayola,
Mars,
Yazoo,
D'Angelo,
The Move,
Yusef Lateef,
Roxette,
the Normal,
Dark Day,
Monolake,
Surgeon,
Johnny Clarke,
Spandau Ballet,
Wasted Youth,
Symarip,
The Selecter,
Rosa Yemen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Man Parrish,
David Bowie,
Marine Girls,
Tim Buckley,
Essential Logic,
Ludus,
Pulsallama,
The Neon Judgement,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Five Americans,
The Fuzztones,
Bob Dylan,
Aaron Thompson,
Crash Course in Science,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Sheep,
Altered Images,
The Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Litter,
The Young Rascals,
Faust,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.