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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet 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 Radiopuhelimet to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Khruangbin,
Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
Graham Central Station,
The Offenders,
Magma,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Rundgren,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pole,
Bizarre Inc.,
Angry Samoans,
Cluster,
The Beau Brummels,
Pagans,
Cheater Slicks,
Althea and Donna,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alison Limerick,
Soft Machine,
Drexciya,
This Heat,
Infiniti,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rapeman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Pus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Public Image Ltd.,
Amon Düül,
Ultimate Spinach,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Talk Talk,
Inner City,
The Fire Engines,
Yaz,
Gang Green,
Colin Newman,
Stetsasonic,
Skriet,
Aswad,
The Gun Club,
Chris Corsano,
The Techniques,
Jacques Brel,
Underground Resistance,
Monks,
Rekid,
Ronan,
Marvin Gaye,
Henry Cow,
Agitation Free,
Zero Boys,
Smog,
Fela Kuti,
Country Teasers,
Lalann,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.