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 Eritrea and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Malaria! to the disco 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
The Smoke,
Depeche Mode,
The Last Poets,
The Monochrome Set,
The Grass Roots,
X-101,
Adolescents,
Gichy Dan,
Mad Mike,
Man Parrish,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lalo Schifrin,
Niagra,
Susan Cadogan,
Organ,
Tim Buckley,
K-Klass,
Urselle,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gladiators,
These Immortal Souls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Parry Music,
The Electric Prunes,
The Human League,
The Smiths,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Flipper,
Pharoah Sanders,
Prince Buster,
Cal Tjader,
The Buckinghams,
Aural Exciters,
John Foxx,
John Cale,
Ponytail,
The Fugs,
Godley & Creme,
The Busters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Görl,
Sarah Menescal,
Khruangbin,
Alton Ellis,
Black Moon,
Lungfish,
Unrelated Segments,
Matthew Halsall,
Pantytec,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Agent Orange,
Byron Stingily,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.