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 Thailand and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Litter to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Dawn Penn,
Neil Young,
The Black Dice,
Chris Corsano,
The Monks,
Arab on Radar,
The Litter,
Talk Talk,
Sonny Sharrock,
Make Up,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Iggy Pop,
Sam Rivers,
Yellowson,
Sister Nancy,
Mars,
Urselle,
Kevin Saunderson,
This Heat,
Malaria!,
Robert Hood,
Derrick May,
The Zeros,
Mark Hollis,
Gichy Dan,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Red Krayola,
X-Ray Spex,
Colin Newman,
U.S. Maple,
The Happenings,
Eurythmics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Spandau Ballet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mad Mike,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cybotron,
Spoonie Gee,
Radio Birdman,
The Smiths,
Desert Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barclay James Harvest,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sugar Minott,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Judy Mowatt,
D'Angelo,
Camouflage,
The Sonics,
Flipper,
Soul Sonic Force,
DNA,
Erasure,
Jeff Lynne,
Letta Mbulu,
Deakin,
Dual Sessions,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.