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 Mauritius and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 The Smiths to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats 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?
Fad Gadget,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aloha Tigers,
Infiniti,
Joey Negro,
Rod Modell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Christie,
The Evens,
Supertramp,
Frankie Knuckles,
T. Rex,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The New Christs,
Unrelated Segments,
Second Layer,
Suburban Knight,
Stiv Bators,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Zapp,
The Offenders,
Loose Ends,
Main Source,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rapeman,
The Zeros,
Saccharine Trust,
The Modern Lovers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kaleidoscope,
Bad Manners,
Albert Ayler,
The Residents,
Pagans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hoover,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Angels of Light,
Gabor Szabo,
Dawn Penn,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sällskapet,
Monolake,
Eric Dolphy,
Can,
Hardrive,
June Days,
Carl Craig,
The Gun Club,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
LL Cool J,
Grandmaster Flash,
Panda Bear,
Pussy Galore,
Jandek,
Clear Light,
Joy Division,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.