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 Liechtenstein and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the electroclash 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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Robert Wyatt,
Barrington Levy,
Gang of Four,
Graham Central Station,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harry Pussy,
Los Fastidios,
Eden Ahbez,
Rosa Yemen,
Todd Rundgren,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Misunderstood,
Alice Coltrane,
Absolute Body Control,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
T. Rex,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Toasters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Q and Not U,
The Durutti Column,
The United States of America,
Pole,
Marcia Griffiths,
D'Angelo,
Dennis Brown,
Faraquet,
H. Thieme,
Malaria!,
Little Man,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mojo Men,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Moleskins,
Deakin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neil Young,
Supertramp,
Kerrie Biddell,
Spandau Ballet,
The Stooges,
Fatback Band,
The Kinks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Slackers,
Audionom,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ornette Coleman,
Con Funk Shun,
Skriet,
Moss Icon,
Negative Approach,
China Crisis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Danielle Patucci,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tomorrow,
Gabor Szabo,
The Seeds,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.