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 Senegal and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Electric Prunes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Minnie Riperton,
The Music Machine,
Derrick May,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Byron Stingily,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Danielle Patucci,
R.M.O.,
Can,
The Alarm Clocks,
Shuggie Otis,
Los Fastidios,
Sparks,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Sherman,
Nico,
The Moody Blues,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fuzztones,
Flamin' Groovies,
Masters at Work,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ituana,
The Gun Club,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Count Five,
Ornette Coleman,
Cameo,
Eddi Front,
Morten Harket,
Idris Muhammad,
Aaron Thompson,
Colin Newman,
The Electric Prunes,
Hasil Adkins,
Nils Olav,
Eric B and Rakim,
Reagan Youth,
48th St. Collective,
Marmalade,
Niagra,
Das Ding,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blackbyrds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Leaves,
June of 44,
Jawbox,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wings,
John Cale,
Cybotron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.