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 Burkina and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Scientists,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sällskapet,
Fear,
Easy Going,
Black Moon,
Von Mondo,
Cybotron,
The Real Kids,
Kerri Chandler,
Index,
Faust,
Technova,
Howard Jones,
Boz Scaggs,
Desert Stars,
Janne Schatter,
The Moody Blues,
Radiopuhelimet,
Peter and Kerry,
The Neon Judgement,
Hasil Adkins,
kango's stein massive,
MDC,
These Immortal Souls,
Blancmange,
Derrick May,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare,
The United States of America,
Country Teasers,
Bob Dylan,
Malaria!,
Max Romeo,
The American Breed,
Don Cherry,
The Tremeloes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swans,
Subhumans,
Loose Ends,
Camouflage,
Mandrill,
Simply Red,
Tommy Roe,
Eddi Front,
Mr. Review,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Motorama,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Moby Grape,
The Move,
Brick,
Roger Hodgson,
Fad Gadget,
Tom Boy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Zeros,
Lalo Schifrin,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.