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 Venezuela 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Marine Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
The Golliwogs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Unwound,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Normal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
World's Most,
Al Stewart,
Tom Boy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Saints,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Marmalade,
The Trojans,
Echospace,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rod Modell,
The Sonics,
The Divine Comedy,
Quando Quango,
Make Up,
The Knickerbockers,
Sällskapet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anthony Braxton,
In Retrospect,
Marc Almond,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lungfish,
The Raincoats,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rufus Thomas,
Monks,
The American Breed,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Moebius,
Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
Tres Demented,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Young Marble Giants,
Nick Fraelich,
Eden Ahbez,
ABBA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jacques Brel,
Ohio Players,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Parry Music,
Index,
Ornette Coleman,
Warren Ellis,
Sugar Minott,
Surgeon,
Gang of Four,
Mission of Burma,
Maleditus Sound,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.