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 Guinea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes 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 F. McDonald to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Crime,
Reuben Wilson,
Marmalade,
Ornette Coleman,
Von Mondo,
John Cale,
Aaron Thompson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lower 48,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sonics,
Michelle Simonal,
Agent Orange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeff Mills,
F. McDonald,
Blake Baxter,
Scan 7,
Albert Ayler,
Minutemen,
Flipper,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
Stetsasonic,
Gregory Isaacs,
Interpol,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Los Fastidios,
Kayak,
The Dirtbombs,
Curtis Mayfield,
X-Ray Spex,
Nick Fraelich,
Goldenarms,
Arcadia,
Little Man,
48th St. Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
The Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Funkadelic,
Marc Almond,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sarah Menescal,
Public Image Ltd.,
Howard Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Osbourne,
Delta 5,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nirvana,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Kinks,
Mark Hollis,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.