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 El Salvador 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Goldenarms to the disco 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
The Gories,
Tres Demented,
Mark Hollis,
KRS-One,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultravox,
Bob Dylan,
the Germs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slick Rick,
Los Fastidios,
Pantaleimon,
Ossler,
The Motions,
Skriet,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bluetip,
Lee Hazlewood,
Echospace,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Monks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Coltrane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Donald Byrd,
Flash Fearless,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yazoo,
Youth Brigade,
The Offenders,
Second Layer,
Minnie Riperton,
Steve Hackett,
Scientists,
Bobby Womack,
Cheater Slicks,
T. Rex,
Technova,
FM Einheit,
Simply Red,
Altered Images,
Al Stewart,
Man Parrish,
The Happenings,
Maurizio,
Metal Thangz,
Masters at Work,
The Busters,
Dawn Penn,
Lalo Schifrin,
Matthew Bourne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Make Up,
Pierre Henry,
Hashim,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.