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 Montenegro and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Neu! to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Pole,
The Fugs,
Moss Icon,
The Angels of Light,
Peter and Kerry,
Eurythmics,
Moebius,
Camouflage,
Steve Hackett,
Make Up,
David Axelrod,
Maleditus Sound,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
Ten City,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Talk Talk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott Heron,
T.S.O.L.,
Zero Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Shoche,
The Electric Prunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Thee Headcoats,
The Star Department,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Freddie Wadling,
The Buckinghams,
The Red Krayola,
The Gories,
Faust,
June of 44,
Sonic Youth,
Lyres,
Wally Richardson,
Severed Heads,
Amazonics,
Los Fastidios,
Kurtis Blow,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Smiths,
Siglo XX,
Althea and Donna,
Dark Day,
Aswad,
The Invisible,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lightning Bolt,
Sparks,
Circle Jerks,
Kaleidoscope,
The Seeds,
China Crisis,
Don Cherry,
Hoover,
Blake Baxter,
Sällskapet,
June Days,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.