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 Qatar and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 These Immortal Souls to the punk 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '90s.
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 The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Mr. Review,
X-101,
Eli Mardock,
Goldenarms,
Adolescents,
AZ,
Warsaw,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Sound,
Ludus,
The Cure,
Sun City Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jeff Lynne,
Drexciya,
Heaven 17,
Todd Terry,
kango's stein massive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Stooges,
Reuben Wilson,
Saccharine Trust,
Television Personalities,
Lalann,
Stetsasonic,
Radio Birdman,
U.S. Maple,
Dennis Brown,
Pole,
Skaos,
Fat Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Wings,
Clear Light,
Terry Callier,
Anakelly,
Archie Shepp,
the Slits,
The Kinks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Doobie Brothers,
Public Enemy,
H. Thieme,
Nick Fraelich,
DNA,
Marvin Gaye,
Half Japanese,
Avey Tare,
Desert Stars,
Erykah Badu,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Moody Blues,
Joe Smooth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jacob Miller,
Altered Images,
Slick Rick,
T. Rex,
Cameo,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.