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 Haiti and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar 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 UT to the techno 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
The Vogues,
Michelle Simonal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rekid,
Gabor Szabo,
The Angels of Light,
Quadrant,
Sugar Minott,
Wally Richardson,
Easy Going,
Eric B and Rakim,
Motorama,
Deadbeat,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gun Club,
The Gladiators,
The Standells,
Rosa Yemen,
This Heat,
Lalo Schifrin,
Mark Hollis,
The Cramps,
the Swans,
The Wake,
Lakeside,
Cluster,
Japan,
Roger Hodgson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
FM Einheit,
The Zeros,
Piero Umiliani,
the Bar-Kays,
Deakin,
Scott Walker,
Moby Grape,
Tropical Tobacco,
LL Cool J,
Arcadia,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brass Construction,
Cymande,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Agitation Free,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fuzztones,
Byron Stingily,
The Busters,
Cecil Taylor,
Rod Modell,
Angry Samoans,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ohio Players,
Hasil Adkins,
Bob Dylan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Wyatt,
New Order,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.