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 Equatorial Guinea 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Roger Hodgson to the dance 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
The Dave Clark Five,
Man Parrish,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sexual Harrassment,
New Order,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Wyatt,
One Last Wish,
Lightning Bolt,
The Names,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pole,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Whodini,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Darondo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crooked Eye,
Moby Grape,
Fatback Band,
Vladislav Delay,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Y Pants,
Sight & Sound,
Scion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deepchord,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Heaven 17,
Slick Rick,
Byron Stingily,
Joe Smooth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Remains,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cymande,
DJ Style,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Reed,
Youth Brigade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Sherman,
Aural Exciters,
Rapeman,
Althea and Donna,
Connie Case,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bauhaus,
Jawbox,
MC5,
The Vogues,
Agitation Free,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
David Bowie,
AZ,
Clear Light,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.