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 Somalia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Pussy Galore to the electroclash 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
K-Klass,
Swell Maps,
Rakim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pantaleimon,
Wire,
E-Dancer,
Marmalade,
Outsiders,
The Invisible,
Drive Like Jehu,
Maleditus Sound,
Section 25,
Das Ding,
Donny Hathaway,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Motions,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roger Hodgson,
Al Stewart,
Wasted Youth,
Bauhaus,
B.T. Express,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shuggie Otis,
Girls At Our Best!,
June of 44,
Babytalk,
Bush Tetras,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Bananas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lucky Dragons,
Neu!,
Don Cherry,
Lindisfarne,
Moss Icon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wings,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nick Fraelich,
La Düsseldorf,
X-101,
The Birthday Party,
Matthew Halsall,
The Knickerbockers,
Mars,
Depeche Mode,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Wake,
Michelle Simonal,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Livin' Joy,
The Fugs,
The Pretty Things,
The Neon Judgement,
Sällskapet,
10cc,
Aswad,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.