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 South Africa and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Skriet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Bourne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alison Limerick,
The Mummies,
The Young Rascals,
Colin Newman,
Lightning Bolt,
The Dead C,
Blancmange,
Jesper Dahlback,
Khruangbin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Black Sheep,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker,
Joey Negro,
Black Moon,
Quantec,
JFA,
Pantaleimon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Coltrane,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Velvet Underground,
Ten City,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bronski Beat,
Joensuu 1685,
Intrusion,
Hasil Adkins,
The Slackers,
Ken Boothe,
Gang Starr,
the Normal,
The J.B.'s,
Theoretical Girls,
Sight & Sound,
Nico,
Eden Ahbez,
New Order,
Electric Prunes,
Sparks,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick May,
The Skatalites,
Marine Girls,
Magazine,
Spandau Ballet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David Bowie,
Jacob Miller,
Alice Coltrane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Silicon Teens,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.