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 Latvia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Chris Corsano to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
The Electric Prunes,
Ronnie Foster,
Mandrill,
Cal Tjader,
B.T. Express,
Graham Central Station,
Soulsonic Force,
Spandau Ballet,
Little Man,
Joe Smooth,
Pantaleimon,
Japan,
Zero Boys,
Kas Product,
DNA,
Brass Construction,
The Leaves,
Ornette Coleman,
Excepter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Sherman,
The Monochrome Set,
Pulsallama,
Cecil Taylor,
Scientists,
Marshall Jefferson,
Radio Birdman,
The Raincoats,
Porter Ricks,
Crash Course in Science,
The Velvet Underground,
D'Angelo,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare,
Niagra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
David Axelrod,
JFA,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
U.S. Maple,
The Kinks,
Arab on Radar,
Absolute Body Control,
The Skatalites,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Angels of Light,
Babytalk,
Sixth Finger,
Wally Richardson,
Mars,
Lou Reed,
Average White Band,
the Germs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Theoretical Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.