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 Gabon and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Almond,
The American Breed,
The Offenders,
The Black Dice,
Monks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Prince Buster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Barbara Tucker,
Crash Course in Science,
Japan,
Stiv Bators,
Hot Snakes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harpers Bizarre,
Desert Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grey Daturas,
The Saints,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Normal,
Laurel Aitken,
Crime,
Liliput,
Roy Ayers,
Tomorrow,
Don Cherry,
Pylon,
The Monks,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
Clear Light,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Blossom Toes,
Mary Jane Girls,
In Retrospect,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Sonics,
The Angels of Light,
Jeff Mills,
The Human League,
Warsaw,
Wasted Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roger Hodgson,
The Stooges,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fall,
Agitation Free,
Unwound,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Associates,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.