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 Tonga and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Andrew Hill to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kerrie Biddell,
Excepter,
Aswad,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funky Four + One,
U.S. Maple,
Livin' Joy,
Fear,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Leaves,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scan 7,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Godley & Creme,
Bobby Byrd,
Faraquet,
The Trojans,
Q and Not U,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Steve Hackett,
Radiohead,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Archie Shepp,
Black Sheep,
Mars,
The Motions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brick,
Jeff Mills,
Mantronix,
Sun City Girls,
Joy Division,
ABBA,
the Germs,
Intrusion,
Peter and Kerry,
Bill Near,
Hoover,
Scratch Acid,
Grauzone,
This Heat,
Lyres,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Colin Newman,
The Blackbyrds,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Soft Cell,
the Human League,
Girls At Our Best!,
Drexciya,
Joey Negro,
Charles Mingus,
Roy Ayers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lalann,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.