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 Syria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 The Fire Engines to the punk 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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Slick Rick,
Erykah Badu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Steve Hackett,
Little Man,
Godley & Creme,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Colin Newman,
Surgeon,
Minny Pops,
Black Pus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Piero Umiliani,
Jacob Miller,
Motorama,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lucky Dragons,
B.T. Express,
Stereo Dub,
The Fugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Stooges,
The New Christs,
Moebius,
Technova,
Vainqueur,
R.M.O.,
The Gories,
The Dead C,
The Selecter,
Blancmange,
the Association,
Eddi Front,
The Young Rascals,
The Golliwogs,
Flipper,
Thompson Twins,
Yazoo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crime,
John Lydon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare,
Boredoms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lyres,
Soft Cell,
Tommy Roe,
DJ Sneak,
Quando Quango,
Ornette Coleman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quantec,
Marc Almond,
Radio Birdman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Royal Trux,
the Germs,
Pulsallama,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.