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 East Timor and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gerry Rafferty 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Bluetip,
Pantytec,
Unwound,
The Dead C,
JFA,
Peter and Kerry,
Outsiders,
The Moody Blues,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Tremeloes,
Average White Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yusef Lateef,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fugs,
The Music Machine,
Sound Behaviour,
Nick Fraelich,
Make Up,
Glenn Branca,
Fad Gadget,
Slave,
Minutemen,
Youth Brigade,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tubeway Army,
La Düsseldorf,
Swans,
The Mojo Men,
Country Teasers,
The J.B.'s,
Marc Almond,
Alton Ellis,
DJ Style,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Whodini,
Monks,
Gang Green,
Duran Duran,
The Grass Roots,
Bang On A Can,
Lightning Bolt,
Cecil Taylor,
Don Cherry,
Can,
Grauzone,
Ice-T,
The Knickerbockers,
Eden Ahbez,
Steve Hackett,
Das Ding,
Black Sheep,
Robert Görl,
Anthony Braxton,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.