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 Solomon Islands and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Harpers Bizarre to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Jeff Lynne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mr. Review,
Technova,
Clear Light,
The Pop Group,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Steve Hackett,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yusef Lateef,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Soft Cell,
Frankie Knuckles,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Glambeats Corp.,
Motorama,
Soft Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
Morten Harket,
Rapeman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James Chance & The Contortions,
X-101,
Crispian St. Peters,
Warsaw,
The Human League,
Bobby Sherman,
E-Dancer,
Intrusion,
Nik Kershaw,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Faust,
Lakeside,
Livin' Joy,
The Slackers,
Ultravox,
Television,
Soul II Soul,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Unwound,
Yaz,
The Neon Judgement,
The Searchers,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Electric Prunes,
Bronski Beat,
Loose Ends,
Bauhaus,
The Mojo Men,
Jeru the Damaja,
Delta 5,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.