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 Tonga and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Durutti Column to the rock 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Iggy Pop,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Funkadelic,
Godley & Creme,
Roger Hodgson,
Das Ding,
Gang Starr,
Procol Harum,
The Moody Blues,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lyres,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Parry Music,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grey Daturas,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Dirtbombs,
The Skatalites,
X-Ray Spex,
Slave,
Donny Hathaway,
Can,
kango's stein massive,
Q and Not U,
OOIOO,
Al Stewart,
Robert Wyatt,
the Normal,
The Stooges,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rites of Spring,
Groovy Waters,
Lindisfarne,
Whodini,
Junior Murvin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sarah Menescal,
Blossom Toes,
Terry Callier,
Basic Channel,
Gong,
Oblivians,
The Electric Prunes,
Skarface,
Althea and Donna,
Pussy Galore,
The Gun Club,
Country Teasers,
The Toasters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Alton Ellis,
UT,
Skaos,
Jacob Miller,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scratch Acid,
Glenn Branca,
Fat Boys,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.