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 Syria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Arcadia to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders 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?
Simply Red,
Franke,
Quadrant,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Holt,
The Skatalites,
Amon Düül II,
Intrusion,
Johnny Osbourne,
Patti Smith,
Suburban Knight,
The Fuzztones,
T.S.O.L.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pere Ubu,
Ituana,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Yusef Lateef,
Newcleus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Terry Callier,
The Five Americans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
JFA,
The Blues Magoos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Janne Schatter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Frankie Knuckles,
Q and Not U,
Joy Division,
Lee Hazlewood,
June of 44,
Cymande,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alice Coltrane,
Trumans Water,
48th St. Collective,
Pharoah Sanders,
L. Decosne,
Stiv Bators,
Aloha Tigers,
Blossom Toes,
Make Up,
Max Romeo,
The United States of America,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joe Finger,
Davy DMX,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Steve Hackett,
Masters at Work,
Circle Jerks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dual Sessions,
OOIOO,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tears for Fears,
Nirvana,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Wake,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.