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 Austria and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Lower 48 to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scion,
The Angels of Light,
Brass Construction,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Beau Brummels,
Funky Four + One,
Monks,
Camberwell Now,
Tubeway Army,
Rotary Connection,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Simply Red,
Oblivians,
The Smiths,
Talk Talk,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultravox,
Malaria!,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fat Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blackbyrds,
R.M.O.,
Marc Almond,
Subhumans,
FM Einheit,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Victims,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Green,
The Barracudas,
Supertramp,
Urselle,
Babytalk,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Al Stewart,
David Axelrod,
Franke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dual Sessions,
Nirvana,
The Cramps,
Thee Headcoats,
The Smoke,
Procol Harum,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mark Hollis,
Stiv Bators,
Sun City Girls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mars,
Can,
E-Dancer,
Barbara Tucker,
The Residents,
Gerry Rafferty,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.