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 Spain and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Pretty Things,
Kenny Larkin,
Boredoms,
Gang Starr,
K-Klass,
The Modern Lovers,
Young Marble Giants,
Lakeside,
Moss Icon,
Ronan,
Monks,
Jandek,
Agitation Free,
Freddie Wadling,
Model 500,
Graham Central Station,
Marvin Gaye,
F. McDonald,
Angry Samoans,
Silicon Teens,
Heaven 17,
Stereo Dub,
Barclay James Harvest,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siglo XX,
Excepter,
The Seeds,
Scrapy,
MDC,
Sparks,
The Durutti Column,
Dual Sessions,
Stiv Bators,
Danielle Patucci,
Moby Grape,
X-Ray Spex,
The Real Kids,
The Dead C,
Franke,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Skatalites,
the Human League,
KRS-One,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bob Dylan,
Spoonie Gee,
Main Source,
Janne Schatter,
The Standells,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quantec,
Ultra Naté,
Cheater Slicks,
The Count Five,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nik Kershaw,
Pussy Galore,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DJ Sneak,
Curtis Mayfield,
Electric Prunes,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.