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 Seychelles and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Shuggie Otis to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
The Slits,
Unwound,
L. Decosne,
Soft Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Sixth Finger,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fugazi,
Schoolly D,
Charles Mingus,
48th St. Collective,
The Mummies,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Japan,
Joe Finger,
Soul Sonic Force,
Chrome,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Searchers,
Ken Boothe,
Agent Orange,
The Gladiators,
Gabor Szabo,
Nico,
Eric B and Rakim,
Animal Collective,
The Dirtbombs,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Hood,
One Last Wish,
Shoche,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Zapp,
Monolake,
Wally Richardson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Guru Guru,
Darondo,
The Electric Prunes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Agitation Free,
Mission of Burma,
Masters at Work,
Spandau Ballet,
New Order,
Das Ding,
Camouflage,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiopuhelimet,
Massinfluence,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Evens,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aswad,
The Moleskins,
Amazonics,
UT,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.