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 Monaco and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Young Marble Giants to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
China Crisis,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
The Names,
Fatback Band,
Ice-T,
Funkadelic,
The Litter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fat Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
Bill Wells,
Eddi Front,
Blake Baxter,
Niagra,
CMW,
Bang On A Can,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New Age Steppers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jawbox,
48th St. Collective,
Tomorrow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Carl Craig,
Peter and Kerry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Warsaw,
Juan Atkins,
Unrelated Segments,
Yazoo,
Black Bananas,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Slits,
Dark Day,
Wasted Youth,
Country Teasers,
Alice Coltrane,
Oneida,
Mandrill,
Marine Girls,
Whodini,
Thompson Twins,
Moby Grape,
L. Decosne,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers,
Mantronix,
These Immortal Souls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lucky Dragons,
the Association,
Dual Sessions,
The Gap Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kerrie Biddell,
A Certain Ratio,
Sam Rivers,
Tom Boy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.