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 Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Symarip to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Cal Tjader,
Porter Ricks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Malaria!,
Lou Reed,
Aaron Thompson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Absolute Body Control,
Metal Thangz,
Fat Boys,
Rekid,
The Trojans,
PIL,
Wasted Youth,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nils Olav,
The Remains,
The Invisible,
Terrestrial Tones,
LL Cool J,
the Germs,
Rod Modell,
Parry Music,
Crooked Eye,
Fear,
Television,
Neil Young,
Blancmange,
Reuben Wilson,
John Lydon,
Joy Division,
Ludus,
Althea and Donna,
Ten City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nick Fraelich,
Organ,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The American Breed,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kurtis Blow,
Fluxion,
Index,
Black Flag,
The Human League,
Faraquet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barrington Levy,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ossler,
Eric Copeland,
A Certain Ratio,
Minutemen,
Unwound,
The Victims,
Bill Wells,
Inner City,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.