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 Azerbaijan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sixth Finger to the rock 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Deepchord,
Crooked Eye,
Quadrant,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Glenn Branca,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sun Ra,
Cluster,
Scrapy,
a-ha,
Groovy Waters,
Idris Muhammad,
Unwound,
Marmalade,
Freddie Wadling,
Wally Richardson,
Suburban Knight,
Fugazi,
H. Thieme,
The New Christs,
Desert Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Hill,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lee Hazlewood,
Supertramp,
Chris & Cosey,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Banda Bassotti,
Nils Olav,
Popol Vuh,
New York Dolls,
Ponytail,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wasted Youth,
The Red Krayola,
Visage,
Gang Green,
The Buckinghams,
Average White Band,
Chrome,
Black Bananas,
The Standells,
Joyce Sims,
Blossom Toes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Don Cherry,
Infiniti,
Harmonia,
The Durutti Column,
Marvin Gaye,
Main Source,
Ornette Coleman,
The Divine Comedy,
Stereo Dub,
This Heat,
Lyres,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.