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 Palau and from Taipei.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Girls At Our Best! to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Brothers Johnson,
Pulsallama,
The Human League,
One Last Wish,
The Busters,
Idris Muhammad,
Lalo Schifrin,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Barracudas,
Barbara Tucker,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marc Almond,
The Smiths,
Janne Schatter,
Junior Murvin,
Mr. Review,
Marine Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Desert Stars,
Boz Scaggs,
Henry Cow,
Animal Collective,
Barry Ungar,
Lightning Bolt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tom Boy,
Donny Hathaway,
Darondo,
the Human League,
Sex Pistols,
Tubeway Army,
Letta Mbulu,
Suburban Knight,
Ice-T,
The Gories,
Piero Umiliani,
Mad Mike,
Alton Ellis,
Aswad,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric B and Rakim,
Average White Band,
The Searchers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rosa Yemen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Grass Roots,
The Doors,
Peter & Gordon,
Man Parrish,
The Neon Judgement,
Lalann,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Connie Case,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marvin Gaye,
Ohio Players,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.