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 Venezuela and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mummies to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Moby Grape,
Absolute Body Control,
the Swans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Severed Heads,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Sound,
The Doors,
Warren Ellis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Moleskins,
Inner City,
Flash Fearless,
Chris & Cosey,
Vladislav Delay,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Flag,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oneida,
Janne Schatter,
Wally Richardson,
Amazonics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sparks,
Q65,
Isaac Hayes,
Tears for Fears,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Patti Smith,
The Dead C,
Lower 48,
Blake Baxter,
The Blues Magoos,
Blossom Toes,
MC5,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ponytail,
The Selecter,
Yusef Lateef,
Boz Scaggs,
These Immortal Souls,
Tim Buckley,
Negative Approach,
Youth Brigade,
Todd Rundgren,
D'Angelo,
The Martian,
Bootsy Collins,
Terry Callier,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joe Smooth,
Procol Harum,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pulsallama,
The Tremeloes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mark Hollis,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.