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 Tuvalu and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jeff Lynne to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Black Sheep,
Oneida,
Bad Manners,
Rosa Yemen,
Wasted Youth,
Brass Construction,
Nirvana,
Animal Collective,
Ultravox,
Surgeon,
Scion,
Liliput,
Groovy Waters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Procol Harum,
Lightning Bolt,
Ituana,
Sonny Sharrock,
Danielle Patucci,
The Tremeloes,
Alice Coltrane,
Can,
Pylon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crooked Eye,
Reuben Wilson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang Green,
D'Angelo,
cv313,
Chris Corsano,
Kenny Larkin,
Absolute Body Control,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gories,
Electric Prunes,
John Lydon,
Althea and Donna,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Michelle Simonal,
Swans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Little Man,
The Raincoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Derrick Morgan,
Minutemen,
The Victims,
Suburban Knight,
Simply Red,
Jawbox,
Dual Sessions,
Organ,
This Heat,
Talk Talk,
Average White Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.