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 Botswana and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Joyce Sims to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Reagan Youth,
Stiv Bators,
Albert Ayler,
Electric Prunes,
Tears for Fears,
Ponytail,
Yazoo,
Bush Tetras,
Quadrant,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Con Funk Shun,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nik Kershaw,
Pole,
Byron Stingily,
Hot Snakes,
Mission of Burma,
John Coltrane,
The Cure,
Harmonia,
Royal Trux,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Arab on Radar,
Schoolly D,
Peter and Kerry,
Skriet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marmalade,
Juan Atkins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Babytalk,
Piero Umiliani,
A Certain Ratio,
Bill Wells,
China Crisis,
Bobby Sherman,
Japan,
Eve St. Jones,
Max Romeo,
ABC,
Pharoah Sanders,
New Order,
Buzzcocks,
Bill Near,
Radiohead,
Lucky Dragons,
The Grass Roots,
Organ,
These Immortal Souls,
The Leaves,
Black Moon,
The Buckinghams,
The Golliwogs,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Young Rascals,
Agent Orange,
the Association,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.