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 Ethiopia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Funky Four + One to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Gabor Szabo,
Funky Four + One,
The Trojans,
Chris Corsano,
The Evens,
Al Stewart,
Black Flag,
The Dirtbombs,
E-Dancer,
Maurizio,
Todd Rundgren,
The Velvet Underground,
Robert Hood,
Unwound,
Wasted Youth,
Ronnie Foster,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Germs,
The Moody Blues,
Q65,
Arab on Radar,
Quando Quango,
Dawn Penn,
Procol Harum,
Eyeless In Gaza,
New Order,
D'Angelo,
Simply Red,
EPMD,
Loose Ends,
Soft Machine,
Theoretical Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neu!,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jeff Lynne,
Matthew Bourne,
Fear,
Ohio Players,
Kurtis Blow,
Morten Harket,
Wings,
Sällskapet,
The Gladiators,
Danielle Patucci,
John Holt,
The Busters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eurythmics,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Sonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Bananas,
Junior Murvin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Model 500,
Cluster,
The Wake,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.