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 Cameroon 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Organ to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Monks,
Zapp,
Ornette Coleman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Yaz,
The Last Poets,
The United States of America,
Mission of Burma,
Fugazi,
Ice-T,
the Germs,
Flipper,
The Raincoats,
China Crisis,
The Monks,
Slave,
The Gun Club,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Green,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Saints,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Count Five,
New Age Steppers,
Skriet,
Warsaw,
Schoolly D,
Judy Mowatt,
Sällskapet,
The Gories,
The Beau Brummels,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dirtbombs,
Joey Negro,
A Certain Ratio,
Procol Harum,
The Residents,
Sun City Girls,
Public Enemy,
Reuben Wilson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Durutti Column,
Ultravox,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Godley & Creme,
The Cure,
Groovy Waters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DNA,
June Days,
Matthew Bourne,
The Invisible,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.