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 Bulgaria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Trojans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Panda Bear,
The Mummies,
The Pretty Things,
Theoretical Girls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eurythmics,
Wings,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Birthday Party,
Eric B and Rakim,
Livin' Joy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
R.M.O.,
Suicide,
Technova,
Y Pants,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Index,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Kinks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gerry Rafferty,
Guru Guru,
Eli Mardock,
48th St. Collective,
Yaz,
Spandau Ballet,
Echospace,
Jacob Miller,
David Bowie,
Organ,
Patti Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
Faraquet,
Frankie Knuckles,
Agent Orange,
ABBA,
UT,
T. Rex,
The Angels of Light,
Mantronix,
Das Ding,
Electric Prunes,
Fad Gadget,
Junior Murvin,
The Moody Blues,
The Names,
Derrick May,
Marc Almond,
Faust,
Graham Central Station,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Japan,
Warren Ellis,
Kas Product,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.