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 Angola and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron 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 The Kinks to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ornette Coleman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Faust,
The Skatalites,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lyres,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Camouflage,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Human League,
Pere Ubu,
Al Stewart,
Smog,
Quando Quango,
Whodini,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cal Tjader,
Sex Pistols,
Dual Sessions,
Vainqueur,
Andrew Hill,
The Blackbyrds,
the Germs,
Carl Craig,
Buzzcocks,
Yusef Lateef,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sight & Sound,
Simply Red,
Sam Rivers,
Index,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Skarface,
MC5,
Howard Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Roxette,
The United States of America,
MDC,
Pussy Galore,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Tremeloes,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Black Dice,
Scientists,
Connie Case,
Von Mondo,
Maurizio,
Eli Mardock,
Sister Nancy,
The Cramps,
Kaleidoscope,
ABC,
Cameo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Pus,
Bill Wells,
Jacques Brel,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.