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 Afghanistan and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mummies to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
the Bar-Kays,
Television,
Cecil Taylor,
Panda Bear,
Gong,
The Seeds,
Black Flag,
Ponytail,
The Dave Clark Five,
Throbbing Gristle,
Echospace,
Isaac Hayes,
X-101,
Donald Byrd,
The Motions,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Graham Central Station,
Henry Cow,
Cluster,
The Blues Magoos,
Second Layer,
Minny Pops,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kaleidoscope,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Smoke,
Barbara Tucker,
The Count Five,
Q and Not U,
Icehouse,
Section 25,
Pharoah Sanders,
Organ,
Freddie Wadling,
Scion,
Ossler,
The Fortunes,
Franke,
Black Sheep,
The Cowsills,
Lee Hazlewood,
Clear Light,
Lalann,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Index,
Lou Reed,
Rhythm & Sound,
The New Christs,
Von Mondo,
Darondo,
Todd Rundgren,
Eddi Front,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Durutti Column,
Gabor Szabo,
Bill Near,
Frankie Knuckles,
Steve Hackett,
Juan Atkins,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.