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 Lebanon and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grunge 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
The Leaves,
Urselle,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Outsiders,
The Raincoats,
Funky Four + One,
Dual Sessions,
Sonny Sharrock,
a-ha,
Leonard Cohen,
Pantytec,
Animal Collective,
Suicide,
Con Funk Shun,
Donny Hathaway,
Livin' Joy,
Jacob Miller,
The Smiths,
Gerry Rafferty,
Shoche,
The Five Americans,
Sam Rivers,
The New Christs,
Schoolly D,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Selecter,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gladiators,
Kurtis Blow,
Dead Boys,
Carl Craig,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ponytail,
Kaleidoscope,
Yazoo,
Albert Ayler,
Dave Gahan,
48th St. Collective,
Television,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Steve Hackett,
Can,
Silicon Teens,
David McCallum,
Boredoms,
Harmonia,
The Knickerbockers,
Newcleus,
Alton Ellis,
Man Parrish,
Matthew Bourne,
Brothers Johnson,
Au Pairs,
Anthony Braxton,
Glambeats Corp.,
These Immortal Souls,
Crash Course in Science,
Pylon,
The Doors,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Alarm Clocks,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.