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 Angola and from Beijing.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the techno 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Tim Buckley,
Eric Dolphy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythm & Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kenny Larkin,
Pierre Henry,
Malaria!,
Barry Ungar,
New York Dolls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lalann,
The Offenders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pere Ubu,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Sherman,
The Saints,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Tremeloes,
John Foxx,
Minutemen,
The J.B.'s,
Scratch Acid,
Avey Tare,
Fluxion,
Dark Day,
The Neon Judgement,
Erasure,
Kaleidoscope,
Sam Rivers,
Excepter,
Mark Hollis,
Max Romeo,
These Immortal Souls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terry Callier,
The Fuzztones,
Eve St. Jones,
Cymande,
Sugar Minott,
Electric Prunes,
Anakelly,
Q and Not U,
Sister Nancy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Bananas,
Ken Boothe,
Tommy Roe,
James White and The Blacks,
Aural Exciters,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick Morgan,
Darondo,
Blossom Toes,
B.T. Express,
Reagan Youth,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.