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 Bolivia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the jazz 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Nirvana,
Scratch Acid,
Japan,
Brick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grauzone,
Marc Almond,
Pole,
Barrington Levy,
Minnie Riperton,
Moby Grape,
Soft Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Accadde A,
Aural Exciters,
the Soft Cell,
The Black Dice,
Stockholm Monsters,
Freddie Wadling,
Joe Finger,
the Association,
ABC,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Stooges,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Audionom,
Monks,
Ken Boothe,
Franke,
Junior Murvin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chrome,
The Index,
K-Klass,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Trumans Water,
Robert Hood,
David McCallum,
Yusef Lateef,
Kerrie Biddell,
Idris Muhammad,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dirtbombs,
The Sonics,
Lyres,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Suicide,
Livin' Joy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lower 48,
Aswad,
The Gun Club,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dual Sessions,
The Smoke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Whodini,
Johnny Clarke,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.