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 South Sudan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Procol Harum to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
The Pop Group,
the Fania All-Stars,
Maurizio,
X-101,
Rufus Thomas,
Skarface,
The Residents,
Graham Central Station,
The Detroit Cobras,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The United States of America,
Eurythmics,
Arab on Radar,
Eve St. Jones,
Panda Bear,
Ossler,
Sexual Harrassment,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eli Mardock,
Pierre Henry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Velvet Underground,
Rekid,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roxette,
The Tremeloes,
Dawn Penn,
Jandek,
Scrapy,
Dave Gahan,
Gong,
Circle Jerks,
One Last Wish,
Hoover,
The Sonics,
Unrelated Segments,
Bobby Womack,
Cal Tjader,
Sixth Finger,
The Trojans,
Robert Wyatt,
Tubeway Army,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
New Age Steppers,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Offenders,
David McCallum,
Babytalk,
Television Personalities,
Section 25,
Soul II Soul,
Roxy Music,
Robert Hood,
The Grass Roots,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Magazine,
Black Bananas,
Flash Fearless,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.