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 Oman and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bob Dylan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Boz Scaggs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Detroit Cobras,
Steve Hackett,
Reuben Wilson,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter and Kerry,
Morten Harket,
June of 44,
Das Ding,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Real Kids,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blossom Toes,
Barrington Levy,
Livin' Joy,
Sam Rivers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Womack,
Massinfluence,
Josef K,
Neil Young,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gichy Dan,
Youth Brigade,
Ronan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nas,
Japan,
Terry Callier,
Popol Vuh,
Peter & Gordon,
Smog,
Lou Reed,
Flipper,
Accadde A,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Masters at Work,
CMW,
Interpol,
Marine Girls,
Mad Mike,
ABC,
Depeche Mode,
Susan Cadogan,
Chrome,
Circle Jerks,
Jeff Mills,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jacob Miller,
Johnny Clarke,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
Anakelly,
Procol Harum,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.