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 Indonesia and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 48th St. Collective to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
James White and The Blacks,
Anakelly,
Cymande,
Excepter,
Urselle,
Bill Wells,
Gang Starr,
Joey Negro,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Public Image Ltd.,
The American Breed,
the Fania All-Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Althea and Donna,
Aswad,
The Litter,
Amazonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Amon Düül II,
Scion,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun City Girls,
The Golliwogs,
H. Thieme,
Pussy Galore,
Thee Headcoats,
The Slackers,
Spoonie Gee,
Desert Stars,
Mantronix,
R.M.O.,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fuzztones,
Rotary Connection,
Faust,
The Fire Engines,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yellowson,
The Move,
Simply Red,
Drive Like Jehu,
Khruangbin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ornette Coleman,
Neu!,
Echospace,
Chris & Cosey,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dark Day,
Loose Ends,
Radio Birdman,
Man Parrish,
Fad Gadget,
Sarah Menescal,
Joe Smooth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soft Cell,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.