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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Newcleus,
Black Sheep,
Model 500,
Blake Baxter,
The Dirtbombs,
Cal Tjader,
Siglo XX,
Stiv Bators,
The Durutti Column,
Matthew Bourne,
The Electric Prunes,
Don Cherry,
The Five Americans,
the Bar-Kays,
Hoover,
Faraquet,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Shadows of Knight,
Essential Logic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nils Olav,
Groovy Waters,
Darondo,
Ten City,
Y Pants,
Barrington Levy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Zeros,
The New Christs,
Swell Maps,
The Monochrome Set,
Absolute Body Control,
Warren Ellis,
Pole,
Deepchord,
Little Man,
Mandrill,
Swans,
Pylon,
Ludus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Harmonia,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jesper Dahlback,
Agent Orange,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tommy Roe,
The Seeds,
Sight & Sound,
Ponytail,
Q and Not U,
Neil Young,
Ultravox,
Khruangbin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
DNA,
Michelle Simonal,
The Angels of Light,
The Gladiators,
New York Dolls,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.