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 Bahamas and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Steve Hackett to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Wake,
The Happenings,
Yazoo,
Max Romeo,
Ten City,
Motorama,
Dawn Penn,
Bluetip,
Stetsasonic,
Talk Talk,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Byrd,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mission of Burma,
Scrapy,
Siglo XX,
Schoolly D,
Warsaw,
Robert Hood,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eve St. Jones,
Stockholm Monsters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Tremeloes,
Letta Mbulu,
Crime,
T.S.O.L.,
Cameo,
Country Teasers,
The Mummies,
These Immortal Souls,
Gong,
The Raincoats,
FM Einheit,
The Move,
Amon Düül,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Index,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Donald Byrd,
The Searchers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pierre Henry,
AZ,
Quantec,
Crash Course in Science,
Wolf Eyes,
Isaac Hayes,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marvin Gaye,
Zapp,
Althea and Donna,
Lyres,
The Pretty Things,
Sam Rivers,
Joe Smooth,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.