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 Bhutan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 the Fania All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Smoke,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nirvana,
Barclay James Harvest,
Inner City,
The Tremeloes,
Index,
Cluster,
Half Japanese,
Cal Tjader,
The Red Krayola,
Wings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dawn Penn,
Hashim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Wyatt,
Erykah Badu,
Au Pairs,
Matthew Halsall,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fluxion,
Kurtis Blow,
Scott Walker,
Ice-T,
Little Man,
Warsaw,
June Days,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Quadrant,
Gang Green,
The Kinks,
Bauhaus,
Faust,
Alton Ellis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aloha Tigers,
Echospace,
Hardrive,
Scratch Acid,
Von Mondo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Deadbeat,
The American Breed,
The Slackers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smiths,
New Order,
Max Romeo,
Public Enemy,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Real Kids,
Pole,
The Offenders,
the Soft Cell,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.