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 Libya and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Fortunes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Durutti Column,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Yaz,
Parry Music,
Sight & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Alton Ellis,
Bush Tetras,
Dawn Penn,
Monolake,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lungfish,
Anakelly,
The Dirtbombs,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Flag,
The Barracudas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jacob Miller,
Goldenarms,
Sexual Harrassment,
Schoolly D,
Joe Finger,
Funky Four + One,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jesper Dahlback,
Leonard Cohen,
John Lydon,
Absolute Body Control,
Maleditus Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Blancmange,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lyres,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Easy Going,
F. McDonald,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Technova,
Brick,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Judy Mowatt,
These Immortal Souls,
Q and Not U,
Soul Sonic Force,
World's Most,
Kerrie Biddell,
Accadde A,
The Angels of Light,
Patti Smith,
Radiohead,
Alphaville,
Kas Product,
Tears for Fears,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sex Pistols,
Thee Headcoats,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.