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 Sudan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes 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 Wasted Youth to the grunge 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Alphaville,
Man Parrish,
The Neon Judgement,
The Victims,
Darondo,
The Dead C,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker,
Jandek,
Oneida,
Quando Quango,
The Five Americans,
Skarface,
Jesper Dahlback,
Unwound,
Television Personalities,
Pussy Galore,
The Index,
Pylon,
New Order,
Graham Central Station,
the Germs,
Hardrive,
John Foxx,
Ronnie Foster,
Neil Young,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The New Christs,
Urselle,
Quantec,
Magma,
The Angels of Light,
The Doors,
Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
Boz Scaggs,
Can,
Porter Ricks,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fire Engines,
Model 500,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Motions,
Tomorrow,
Ultra Naté,
JFA,
The Smiths,
New Age Steppers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Terrestrial Tones,
Make Up,
Youth Brigade,
Piero Umiliani,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Görl,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Procol Harum,
The Techniques,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Kinks,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.