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 Costa Rica and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes 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 LL Cool J to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Agent Orange,
Thee Headcoats,
The Black Dice,
Country Teasers,
June of 44,
Accadde A,
Matthew Bourne,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wolf Eyes,
Donald Byrd,
Henry Cow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Heaven 17,
Pet Shop Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Masters at Work,
Roger Hodgson,
The Durutti Column,
Scott Walker,
James White and The Blacks,
Marvin Gaye,
Joy Division,
Alison Limerick,
John Lydon,
Blossom Toes,
Lungfish,
Tres Demented,
Lucky Dragons,
The Remains,
Warsaw,
kango's stein massive,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Youth Brigade,
Ice-T,
Icehouse,
Colin Newman,
Lower 48,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Neon Judgement,
Cymande,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sam Rivers,
Babytalk,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Cell,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Toasters,
Procol Harum,
Hot Snakes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Magma,
Eurythmics,
Negative Approach,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Underground Resistance,
The Leaves,
Khruangbin,
Yusef Lateef,
X-102,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.