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 Seychelles and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator 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 The Blues Magoos to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
F. McDonald,
Crooked Eye,
One Last Wish,
The Busters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Don Cherry,
The Blues Magoos,
Inner City,
Yellowson,
Bobby Sherman,
Drexciya,
Stereo Dub,
Erykah Badu,
The Moody Blues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ponytail,
Cecil Taylor,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Angels of Light,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Amon Düül II,
Nation of Ulysses,
Outsiders,
The Trojans,
Tom Boy,
LL Cool J,
The Saints,
Stetsasonic,
Ronan,
Iggy Pop,
Scan 7,
Mary Jane Girls,
Smog,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Section 25,
Anthony Braxton,
The Happenings,
Al Stewart,
Rotary Connection,
Gichy Dan,
Cal Tjader,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Theoretical Girls,
Kenny Larkin,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Panda Bear,
Tears for Fears,
Jacques Brel,
CMW,
John Holt,
Icehouse,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fear,
Rod Modell,
Popol Vuh,
Sun City Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harmonia,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.