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 United States and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the jazz 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Tubeway Army,
Essential Logic,
Section 25,
Lalann,
Mark Hollis,
The Sonics,
Khruangbin,
Max Romeo,
Marmalade,
Arab on Radar,
the Sonics,
Agent Orange,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cymande,
Pantaleimon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Deadbeat,
John Foxx,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mary Jane Girls,
Alphaville,
Ken Boothe,
F. McDonald,
Jeff Lynne,
Procol Harum,
The Golliwogs,
the Germs,
Boz Scaggs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Von Mondo,
John Lydon,
Iggy Pop,
Bootsy Collins,
Slave,
Vladislav Delay,
The Motions,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Birthday Party,
The Selecter,
The Remains,
Oblivians,
Ultimate Spinach,
Byron Stingily,
Erykah Badu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Letta Mbulu,
Marine Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Saints,
Lyres,
Eurythmics,
David Bowie,
Circle Jerks,
Albert Ayler,
Al Stewart,
Crash Course in Science,
Soft Machine,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
Amon Düül II,
Godley & Creme,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.