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 Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Al Stewart to the disco 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Gabor Szabo,
H. Thieme,
Alison Limerick,
Dead Boys,
Camberwell Now,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Robert Wyatt,
L. Decosne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Simply Red,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mission of Burma,
The Fire Engines,
Fatback Band,
Country Teasers,
Sixth Finger,
Oneida,
The Slits,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Guru Guru,
PIL,
The Smiths,
Iggy Pop,
Eve St. Jones,
Minutemen,
Loose Ends,
The Raincoats,
Peter & Gordon,
Glenn Branca,
Mantronix,
The Selecter,
Black Sheep,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dead C,
Barry Ungar,
Icehouse,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Last Poets,
Liliput,
The Move,
Siglo XX,
Rapeman,
Rufus Thomas,
Moebius,
Soul II Soul,
Radio Birdman,
Grey Daturas,
Black Pus,
Newcleus,
LL Cool J,
EPMD,
Echospace,
Delta 5,
Model 500,
Youth Brigade,
Radiopuhelimet,
Adolescents,
MDC,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Womack,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.