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 Tunisia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Toronto.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Barclay James Harvest to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
The Pop Group,
DJ Style,
Skriet,
Guru Guru,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gil Scott Heron,
June of 44,
Siglo XX,
Boz Scaggs,
Kayak,
David Bowie,
Barry Ungar,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amazonics,
Visage,
Bluetip,
Duran Duran,
Subhumans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bauhaus,
Johnny Clarke,
Radio Birdman,
Sun Ra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
E-Dancer,
The Standells,
Audionom,
the Soft Cell,
Bill Wells,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
OOIOO,
Joensuu 1685,
Deepchord,
Anthony Braxton,
The Litter,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eurythmics,
Derrick May,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
New Age Steppers,
Amon Düül II,
Lindisfarne,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mars,
UT,
The American Breed,
Jacques Brel,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Womack,
Black Pus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Althea and Donna,
Derrick Morgan,
Delta 5,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Searchers,
Aaron Thompson,
Flipper,
The Electric Prunes,
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.