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 Jamaica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Donny Hathaway to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Bananas,
Thee Headcoats,
The Moleskins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lower 48,
Oblivians,
The Dead C,
Crime,
FM Einheit,
Lindisfarne,
Guru Guru,
The Stooges,
Juan Atkins,
Bill Wells,
The Misunderstood,
Sarah Menescal,
The J.B.'s,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wings,
The Fuzztones,
the Slits,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Main Source,
Cecil Taylor,
Metal Thangz,
Quadrant,
Man Parrish,
Boz Scaggs,
Moby Grape,
Funky Four + One,
Ponytail,
The Neon Judgement,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amon Düül II,
Amon Düül,
Tommy Roe,
Smog,
Alton Ellis,
The Modern Lovers,
Hot Snakes,
Nico,
Infiniti,
Swans,
Marvin Gaye,
The Invisible,
Sun Ra,
James White and The Blacks,
The Last Poets,
Babytalk,
The Names,
Zapp,
The Gun Club,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Reed,
Agent Orange,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Brothers Johnson,
Tears for Fears,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.