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 Denmark and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the jazz 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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
The Kinks,
Letta Mbulu,
Bauhaus,
Grey Daturas,
Eric Dolphy,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Germs,
Absolute Body Control,
Althea and Donna,
Nils Olav,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tommy Roe,
Terry Callier,
Shuggie Otis,
Roger Hodgson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fear,
Wally Richardson,
The Knickerbockers,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gun Club,
Mandrill,
Alton Ellis,
Jandek,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
Skriet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scientists,
Groovy Waters,
Deakin,
The Moody Blues,
Donny Hathaway,
Darondo,
Fatback Band,
Brick,
Sex Pistols,
The Gladiators,
The Sonics,
The Trojans,
The Beau Brummels,
Fela Kuti,
James White and The Blacks,
Model 500,
Joy Division,
Jeff Mills,
Gong,
Lou Reed,
Schoolly D,
Roxette,
Rod Modell,
Mantronix,
UT,
Blancmange,
June of 44,
Gichy Dan,
Sonic Youth,
Animal Collective,
Minutemen,
The Blues Magoos,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.