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 Taiwan and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Colin Newman to the rock 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
The Modern Lovers,
Kenny Larkin,
Freddie Wadling,
James Chance & The Contortions,
T. Rex,
X-Ray Spex,
The Techniques,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alphaville,
OOIOO,
Hardrive,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aloha Tigers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
This Heat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Audionom,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kas Product,
Yaz,
Kaleidoscope,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lower 48,
Donny Hathaway,
Excepter,
The Index,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
PIL,
Oneida,
B.T. Express,
The Beau Brummels,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fortunes,
Television,
Barrington Levy,
Arcadia,
Judy Mowatt,
Minnie Riperton,
Sandy B,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cowsills,
Radio Birdman,
kango's stein massive,
the Association,
Tommy Roe,
Dennis Brown,
The Buckinghams,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fugazi,
Crooked Eye,
The Searchers,
Reuben Wilson,
The Misunderstood,
Barry Ungar,
Main Source,
Jacob Miller,
Spandau Ballet,
June of 44,
Alison Limerick,
China Crisis,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.