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 Oman and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Robert Hood to the crunk 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
AZ,
Boredoms,
The Red Krayola,
Circle Jerks,
48th St. Collective,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Last Poets,
Nils Olav,
Steve Hackett,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Vladislav Delay,
The Walker Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Electric Prunes,
Babytalk,
Cluster,
Wasted Youth,
EPMD,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suicide,
Ronnie Foster,
The Barracudas,
T. Rex,
Bauhaus,
Skaos,
Rufus Thomas,
MDC,
Prince Buster,
Radiohead,
Ten City,
Flamin' Groovies,
Monks,
Joyce Sims,
The Star Department,
X-Ray Spex,
Rites of Spring,
Archie Shepp,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang Green,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Clear Light,
The Seeds,
Parry Music,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Slits,
The Mojo Men,
DJ Sneak,
Robert Wyatt,
B.T. Express,
China Crisis,
Average White Band,
Porter Ricks,
New York Dolls,
Basic Channel,
The Five Americans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang of Four,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alphaville,
The Monks,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.