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 Liberia and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Saccharine Trust to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Yazoo,
Funky Four + One,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nas,
Neil Young,
Guru Guru,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Normal,
Andrew Hill,
48th St. Collective,
Rekid,
Scan 7,
Man Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Alton Ellis,
Neu!,
Simply Red,
Spandau Ballet,
The Smiths,
Bootsy Collins,
Joe Smooth,
Main Source,
Ultravox,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gap Band,
D'Angelo,
Barry Ungar,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang Starr,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Johnny Clarke,
Girls At Our Best!,
Anakelly,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Absolute Body Control,
Hardrive,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Oneida,
The Seeds,
One Last Wish,
The Birthday Party,
Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Prunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Mojo Men,
The Barracudas,
The Stooges,
Erykah Badu,
Jerry's Kids,
Silicon Teens,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Liliput,
Hasil Adkins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.