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 Lebanon and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum 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 The Fuzztones to the grunge 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
MDC,
The Raincoats,
Television,
The Gladiators,
Icehouse,
Rod Modell,
Crooked Eye,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Sherman,
Eddi Front,
Marvin Gaye,
A Certain Ratio,
Panda Bear,
Dennis Brown,
Jandek,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
AZ,
Boz Scaggs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Sheep,
EPMD,
Johnny Clarke,
The Black Dice,
Aloha Tigers,
Mad Mike,
Stereo Dub,
Gabor Szabo,
Joe Finger,
Massinfluence,
Lower 48,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Parry Music,
Babytalk,
Sun Ra,
Radio Birdman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Smiths,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cheater Slicks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Khruangbin,
The Gap Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Wake,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Steve Hackett,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eli Mardock,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Christie,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
New Age Steppers,
Harry Pussy,
Donald Byrd,
Scientists,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.