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 Madagascar and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Radio Birdman to the techno 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Crooked Eye,
Depeche Mode,
Inner City,
Rakim,
Sam Rivers,
John Coltrane,
Alison Limerick,
Frankie Knuckles,
Delta 5,
Mark Hollis,
The Gap Band,
Royal Trux,
Tomorrow,
Terry Callier,
Monolake,
Neil Young,
Piero Umiliani,
These Immortal Souls,
the Germs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sister Nancy,
Ituana,
Moss Icon,
Buzzcocks,
Nirvana,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yaz,
X-Ray Spex,
Kurtis Blow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Skarface,
Max Romeo,
Laurel Aitken,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blake Baxter,
Excepter,
Wire,
The Cramps,
The Raincoats,
Sällskapet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Erasure,
World's Most,
The Star Department,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Vogues,
Aural Exciters,
The Tremeloes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nico,
Drexciya,
Banda Bassotti,
Goldenarms,
Idris Muhammad,
Parry Music,
Stetsasonic,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.