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 St Lucia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Minnie Riperton to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Kas Product,
Trumans Water,
the Germs,
Banda Bassotti,
Dual Sessions,
Joe Finger,
Sound Behaviour,
Johnny Clarke,
Kaleidoscope,
The Real Kids,
Toni Rubio,
Easy Going,
Jerry Gold Smith,
China Crisis,
Average White Band,
Ice-T,
Lou Christie,
Interpol,
The Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
Radiopuhelimet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Knickerbockers,
Glenn Branca,
The Star Department,
Au Pairs,
Main Source,
The Fugs,
Can,
Icehouse,
Kevin Saunderson,
Leonard Cohen,
Moss Icon,
Scott Walker,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Urselle,
Judy Mowatt,
Nico,
Deakin,
Gong,
Zapp,
Wings,
Mr. Review,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Young Rascals,
Severed Heads,
Juan Atkins,
Public Enemy,
The Pop Group,
John Foxx,
Barbara Tucker,
Amazonics,
Soft Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Durutti Column,
T. Rex,
The Litter,
Dead Boys,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.