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 Poland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron 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 Flamin' Groovies to the grime 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Bill Near,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Count Five,
The Trojans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacques Brel,
Hot Snakes,
The Durutti Column,
Henry Cow,
Brothers Johnson,
L. Decosne,
ABBA,
Skarface,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pole,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Godley & Creme,
Supertramp,
Peter and Kerry,
David McCallum,
The Dirtbombs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
This Heat,
New Age Steppers,
Chris & Cosey,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Trumans Water,
Terry Callier,
Negative Approach,
The Pop Group,
Rod Modell,
Motorama,
Pantaleimon,
KRS-One,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Public Enemy,
The Tremeloes,
David Bowie,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
T.S.O.L.,
Arthur Verocai,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Television,
Faraquet,
The Litter,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Motions,
The Seeds,
Soft Cell,
Eric Copeland,
Eric B and Rakim,
Toni Rubio,
Japan,
Joensuu 1685,
Monks,
The Cowsills,
Quantec,
Jawbox,
Accadde A,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.