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 Denmark and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar 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 Blackbyrds to the jazz 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moebius,
Pere Ubu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Babytalk,
The Grass Roots,
Cybotron,
These Immortal Souls,
T.S.O.L.,
EPMD,
Icehouse,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cameo,
Severed Heads,
Mo-Dettes,
Byron Stingily,
Scratch Acid,
T. Rex,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roger Hodgson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Chris & Cosey,
Guru Guru,
Donald Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
John Cale,
Masters at Work,
The Saints,
Talk Talk,
Basic Channel,
Ice-T,
The Knickerbockers,
Angry Samoans,
Jawbox,
The Index,
Yazoo,
Grauzone,
the Bar-Kays,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fatback Band,
Lou Christie,
Peter and Kerry,
Mandrill,
The Electric Prunes,
The Residents,
Bronski Beat,
The Standells,
Barrington Levy,
Rapeman,
Crash Course in Science,
R.M.O.,
The Leaves,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bang On A Can,
Freddie Wadling,
H. Thieme,
UT,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.