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 Senegal and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Electric Prunes to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Reuben Wilson,
Dark Day,
The Techniques,
The Mojo Men,
Khruangbin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dual Sessions,
Wally Richardson,
Echospace,
Cluster,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Saints,
The Fortunes,
Davy DMX,
the Normal,
Nico,
Aloha Tigers,
Mr. Review,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Glenn Branca,
The Searchers,
The Mummies,
Roger Hodgson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sister Nancy,
Johnny Osbourne,
The United States of America,
Ossler,
The Velvet Underground,
Underground Resistance,
Roxette,
The Motions,
Fad Gadget,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cybotron,
Rosa Yemen,
Monks,
Danielle Patucci,
Index,
The Toasters,
James White and The Blacks,
The Real Kids,
Matthew Halsall,
Joey Negro,
Second Layer,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joy Division,
Warsaw,
OOIOO,
June Days,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wasted Youth,
Cameo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultravox,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.