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 Kiribati and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Minor Threat to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Slackers,
The J.B.'s,
The Dirtbombs,
Piero Umiliani,
Q and Not U,
Ossler,
Juan Atkins,
Grey Daturas,
Ronnie Foster,
Wings,
Hot Snakes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alphaville,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Seeds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantaleimon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Grass Roots,
Peter and Kerry,
Hoover,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Talk Talk,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Porter Ricks,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
World's Most,
Sun City Girls,
Black Pus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Blossom Toes,
Schoolly D,
The Pretty Things,
Lalann,
The Modern Lovers,
Bauhaus,
Godley & Creme,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bronski Beat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harmonia,
Arthur Verocai,
China Crisis,
Connie Case,
Das Ding,
Bootsy Collins,
Liliput,
June Days,
Circle Jerks,
The United States of America,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Human League,
The Dead C,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.