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 Italy and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 T. Rex to the funk 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Cheater Slicks,
David Bowie,
Faraquet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Associates,
Rosa Yemen,
Isaac Hayes,
Joensuu 1685,
Skarface,
Rufus Thomas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Count Five,
Blancmange,
Ossler,
The Slackers,
Albert Ayler,
The Seeds,
Patti Smith,
Steve Hackett,
Suicide,
Minny Pops,
Sam Rivers,
Q and Not U,
John Foxx,
Funky Four + One,
Quantec,
Symarip,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Todd Rundgren,
The Golliwogs,
Rakim,
New York Dolls,
Saccharine Trust,
KRS-One,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kurtis Blow,
Dead Boys,
Los Fastidios,
The Moody Blues,
kango's stein massive,
Tubeway Army,
Marc Almond,
Ronnie Foster,
Peter & Gordon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Guru Guru,
Lindisfarne,
Ken Boothe,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
La Düsseldorf,
The Music Machine,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Howard Jones,
Newcleus,
cv313,
Bluetip,
The Stooges,
Pharoah Sanders,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Birthday Party,
Outsiders,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.