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 Sierra Leone and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 The Smoke to the crunk 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
The Martian,
The Names,
Severed Heads,
Q and Not U,
Nils Olav,
Henry Cow,
Iggy Pop,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lakeside,
Brick,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Pretty Things,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mad Mike,
K-Klass,
Schoolly D,
Bobby Womack,
Mandrill,
Black Sheep,
Swell Maps,
Blossom Toes,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
The Electric Prunes,
Magma,
Fat Boys,
Liliput,
Public Enemy,
Jacques Brel,
Godley & Creme,
Anakelly,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Finger,
Main Source,
Crime,
Sam Rivers,
Khruangbin,
Amazonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Mars,
Shuggie Otis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Fania All-Stars,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Maurizio,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric Copeland,
Fear,
Sällskapet,
Whodini,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dave Clark Five,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cymande,
Roxy Music,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gang Green,
Ronan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.