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 Kosovo and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
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 guitar 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Nas,
Letta Mbulu,
Panda Bear,
Easy Going,
Tropical Tobacco,
Porter Ricks,
The Monochrome Set,
John Coltrane,
Deadbeat,
Joy Division,
Grauzone,
Franke,
The Move,
Scion,
Terry Callier,
AZ,
Boredoms,
Rakim,
U.S. Maple,
Average White Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Christie,
Bad Manners,
Ituana,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barrington Levy,
China Crisis,
The Raincoats,
Sixth Finger,
The Names,
Godley & Creme,
Cheater Slicks,
Liliput,
Erasure,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
KRS-One,
Yazoo,
Trumans Water,
Lalo Schifrin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mary Jane Girls,
F. McDonald,
The Trojans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Camberwell Now,
X-Ray Spex,
Inner City,
Kenny Larkin,
Moebius,
Minny Pops,
Arthur Verocai,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Motions,
48th St. Collective,
the Swans,
The Sonics,
Jacob Miller,
Joyce Sims,
Black Sheep,
Pantytec,
Malaria!,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.