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 Comoros and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Star Department to the jazz 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispy Ambulance,
MDC,
The Beau Brummels,
Smog,
Byron Stingily,
Gong,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ohio Players,
Hot Snakes,
Y Pants,
Aaron Thompson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Techniques,
Rekid,
Joyce Sims,
Marc Almond,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ludus,
Lalann,
The Vogues,
Cybotron,
The Mummies,
Rakim,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sällskapet,
Wasted Youth,
Radiohead,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alton Ellis,
Ituana,
Spandau Ballet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Loose Ends,
Wally Richardson,
Wings,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oblivians,
Barrington Levy,
Yaz,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
Drexciya,
New York Dolls,
Arab on Radar,
Desert Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
Deadbeat,
Gang of Four,
Jawbox,
Mark Hollis,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Animal Collective,
Infiniti,
The Gladiators,
Schoolly D,
The Doors,
Todd Rundgren,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.