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 Vanuatu and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba 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 Flamin' Groovies to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Connie Case,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Junior Murvin,
Barry Ungar,
Rod Modell,
June of 44,
Hasil Adkins,
The Names,
The Busters,
Magma,
The Grass Roots,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Theoretical Girls,
LL Cool J,
Absolute Body Control,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
CMW,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ronan,
Cecil Taylor,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Hood,
Roy Ayers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultra Naté,
Dark Day,
Desert Stars,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Parrish,
Tim Buckley,
The Tremeloes,
David McCallum,
Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Thee Headcoats,
The Sonics,
Jerry's Kids,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cymande,
Skaos,
Crispy Ambulance,
Juan Atkins,
Fugazi,
Negative Approach,
Wally Richardson,
Eurythmics,
K-Klass,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare,
Mark Hollis,
The Gladiators,
The Real Kids,
Tears for Fears,
Procol Harum,
Ludus,
Prince Buster,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.