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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 R.M.O. to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Names,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amon Düül,
Archie Shepp,
Fela Kuti,
Panda Bear,
The Offenders,
Joyce Sims,
Jacques Brel,
The Grass Roots,
Altered Images,
Cecil Taylor,
The Skatalites,
Lindisfarne,
Smog,
Average White Band,
Ten City,
Rites of Spring,
Skarface,
Gichy Dan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ronan,
The American Breed,
E-Dancer,
Monks,
Metal Thangz,
Flamin' Groovies,
48th St. Collective,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
cv313,
Excepter,
The Evens,
The Wake,
The Martian,
Wings,
Don Cherry,
The Cowsills,
The Victims,
Colin Newman,
Country Teasers,
Oneida,
Whodini,
The Dead C,
Little Man,
Niagra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Funkadelic,
Scion,
Mark Hollis,
Letta Mbulu,
Barbara Tucker,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Infiniti,
Tears for Fears,
the Soft Cell,
Josef K,
Cal Tjader,
Sun City Girls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Laurel Aitken,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.