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 Costa Rica and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Fire Engines to the crunk 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The Cure,
Accadde A,
Marmalade,
the Germs,
Neil Young,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mission of Burma,
Yaz,
Pierre Henry,
Byron Stingily,
Jeff Lynne,
Ronan,
Tres Demented,
Morten Harket,
Depeche Mode,
The Velvet Underground,
Rod Modell,
Silicon Teens,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Minutemen,
The Fire Engines,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brothers Johnson,
The Five Americans,
Reagan Youth,
Whodini,
The Walker Brothers,
Eric Dolphy,
Al Stewart,
the Bar-Kays,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ken Boothe,
Brand Nubian,
Nik Kershaw,
Slick Rick,
Eric Copeland,
Leonard Cohen,
Joensuu 1685,
The Human League,
Crime,
Tim Buckley,
Mo-Dettes,
Lungfish,
The Buckinghams,
CMW,
Kurtis Blow,
Marvin Gaye,
Wolf Eyes,
Maurizio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Rufus Thomas,
Hot Snakes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fear,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ronnie Foster,
Massinfluence,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.