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 Morocco 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wings to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
The Wake,
U.S. Maple,
Cymande,
Magazine,
The Trojans,
Kas Product,
Aaron Thompson,
MDC,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alice Coltrane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kurtis Blow,
Echospace,
MC5,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Names,
The United States of America,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Urselle,
Eddi Front,
June Days,
Con Funk Shun,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
World's Most,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Sonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
cv313,
Jeff Lynne,
DJ Style,
Excepter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Soft Cell,
the Association,
Pierre Henry,
Sonic Youth,
Basic Channel,
Radio Birdman,
The American Breed,
Barry Ungar,
Joyce Sims,
Al Stewart,
Black Flag,
The Black Dice,
Monks,
Minutemen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Infiniti,
Chris Corsano,
Model 500,
Quadrant,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Y Pants,
Swans,
Tommy Roe,
Rosa Yemen,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.