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 Greece and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gabor Szabo to the dance 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scientists,
The Alarm Clocks,
Index,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moody Blues,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Pop Group,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eddi Front,
Organ,
Susan Cadogan,
James White and The Blacks,
Symarip,
The Victims,
Pantytec,
Suburban Knight,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Buckinghams,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harpers Bizarre,
Chris Corsano,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grauzone,
Cymande,
Man Eating Sloth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jandek,
Agitation Free,
Carl Craig,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mandrill,
Niagra,
Youth Brigade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bush Tetras,
Frankie Knuckles,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Vladislav Delay,
The Remains,
Hasil Adkins,
The Kinks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hot Snakes,
Unrelated Segments,
Swans,
The Motions,
Radio Birdman,
The Toasters,
Rapeman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vainqueur,
Nils Olav,
Darondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dead Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.