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 Greece and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Electric Prunes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Normal,
The Fortunes,
Scratch Acid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Barrington Levy,
Los Fastidios,
The Moleskins,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Byrd,
Cheater Slicks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Durutti Column,
Con Funk Shun,
Joe Finger,
Marine Girls,
Underground Resistance,
Hasil Adkins,
Graham Central Station,
Letta Mbulu,
X-Ray Spex,
Minnie Riperton,
Robert Wyatt,
The Residents,
Au Pairs,
David Bowie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scott Walker,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra,
Aloha Tigers,
Crash Course in Science,
Alton Ellis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultra Naté,
Deadbeat,
The Dirtbombs,
Loose Ends,
X-102,
Camberwell Now,
Accadde A,
Gabor Szabo,
The Slits,
Anakelly,
Thee Headcoats,
Colin Newman,
Subhumans,
Bootsy Collins,
Rites of Spring,
The Trojans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blake Baxter,
Massinfluence,
The Searchers,
Spoonie Gee,
Soul II Soul,
Ohio Players,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.