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 Algeria and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Neon Judgement,
Boz Scaggs,
Idris Muhammad,
Mandrill,
Pierre Henry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Inner City,
Cymande,
the Slits,
The Birthday Party,
Brothers Johnson,
Surgeon,
Jawbox,
The Gories,
Scientists,
The Smiths,
Connie Case,
Adolescents,
The Selecter,
Half Japanese,
Kaleidoscope,
Crash Course in Science,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kas Product,
Soulsonic Force,
Thee Headcoats,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alton Ellis,
Flash Fearless,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monks,
U.S. Maple,
Hoover,
Bobby Womack,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Livin' Joy,
Steve Hackett,
Japan,
Electric Prunes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ronan,
Lucky Dragons,
The Litter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Leonard Cohen,
Rod Modell,
Nick Fraelich,
Rites of Spring,
David Axelrod,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Smog,
Max Romeo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
James White and The Blacks,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yazoo,
Bill Wells,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.