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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet 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 Icehouse to the rap 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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sun City Girls,
Brick,
James White and The Blacks,
Nirvana,
Lalo Schifrin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sound Behaviour,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Gories,
Mo-Dettes,
Grey Daturas,
Brothers Johnson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cal Tjader,
F. McDonald,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Derrick May,
The Misunderstood,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Little Man,
Davy DMX,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
R.M.O.,
The Wake,
Scrapy,
Loose Ends,
Neu!,
Chris Corsano,
The Happenings,
Pole,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scientists,
Minnie Riperton,
Wolf Eyes,
The Golliwogs,
Bootsy Collins,
Gabor Szabo,
Easy Going,
Icehouse,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Invisible,
The Litter,
Sällskapet,
Mantronix,
Maurizio,
Dawn Penn,
Funkadelic,
Faraquet,
The Motions,
New Order,
ABC,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Womack,
Lebanon Hanover,
Terry Callier,
Soft Cell,
Andrew Hill,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Popol Vuh,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Divine Comedy,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.