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 Lesotho and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Hashim,
Pierre Henry,
Bronski Beat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New York Dolls,
Rod Modell,
Kerri Chandler,
Jawbox,
Goldenarms,
The Birthday Party,
Make Up,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roxy Music,
John Coltrane,
Public Image Ltd.,
Carl Craig,
Bootsy Collins,
The Slackers,
Sam Rivers,
Eden Ahbez,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mo-Dettes,
Alice Coltrane,
Bang On A Can,
The Fugs,
Ossler,
Unwound,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gories,
China Crisis,
Minor Threat,
Nirvana,
Black Flag,
Junior Murvin,
Suicide,
Interpol,
Model 500,
Roger Hodgson,
The Evens,
Scott Walker,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bill Near,
Monks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bill Wells,
Oblivians,
The Smoke,
X-101,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Cybotron,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Green,
DJ Sneak,
Mad Mike,
Das Ding,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Associates,
Motorama,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Moody Blues,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.