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 Zimbabwe and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Porter Ricks to the grunge 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Star Department,
Unrelated Segments,
Au Pairs,
The Sonics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Darondo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pagans,
The Busters,
Soul II Soul,
KRS-One,
Eve St. Jones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tears for Fears,
Barry Ungar,
K-Klass,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harmonia,
Ludus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Cybotron,
The Sound,
Y Pants,
Ohio Players,
Royal Trux,
F. McDonald,
Scratch Acid,
Ken Boothe,
Morten Harket,
Jimmy McGriff,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Boredoms,
Thee Headcoats,
Technova,
The Cramps,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Infiniti,
Sister Nancy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fugazi,
Section 25,
One Last Wish,
the Germs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dual Sessions,
Circle Jerks,
Wings,
Organ,
Grauzone,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Charles Mingus,
Chris & Cosey,
Gerry Rafferty,
David McCallum,
The Divine Comedy,
Connie Case,
Davy DMX,
Agitation Free,
Barclay James Harvest,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.