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 Dominica and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Graham Central Station to the grunge 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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Outsiders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Red Krayola,
Skaos,
Nik Kershaw,
David McCallum,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
X-102,
Los Fastidios,
Stiv Bators,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Names,
Fat Boys,
Sam Rivers,
The Buckinghams,
MDC,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hashim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fad Gadget,
Audionom,
Surgeon,
AZ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Quadrant,
Mr. Review,
The Gun Club,
F. McDonald,
Faraquet,
Colin Newman,
Royal Trux,
The Music Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Steve Hackett,
Dawn Penn,
UT,
Ultimate Spinach,
The American Breed,
The Fuzztones,
Whodini,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Todd Terry,
Sun Ra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fluxion,
Sparks,
Zero Boys,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mo-Dettes,
Con Funk Shun,
Kerri Chandler,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.