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 San Marino and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Frankie Knuckles to the electroclash 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Golliwogs,
Bush Tetras,
Bang On A Can,
The Gladiators,
Marvin Gaye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Japan,
David McCallum,
The Angels of Light,
Robert Wyatt,
Boredoms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Funky Four + One,
David Axelrod,
Talk Talk,
Wings,
Leonard Cohen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sandy B,
Bluetip,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Searchers,
Spandau Ballet,
The Kinks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fortunes,
Heaven 17,
Wally Richardson,
Eli Mardock,
Mantronix,
Livin' Joy,
Procol Harum,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Misunderstood,
Von Mondo,
K-Klass,
This Heat,
Motorama,
DJ Sneak,
Surgeon,
Pagans,
Flipper,
Sarah Menescal,
Chrome,
The Remains,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Barrington Levy,
Mission of Burma,
Sun City Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
Roger Hodgson,
ABC,
Young Marble Giants,
Sixth Finger,
Sound Behaviour,
U.S. Maple,
The Buckinghams,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.