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 Dominican Republic and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Sam Rivers to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Swans,
The Slackers,
Alice Coltrane,
Zero Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Byron Stingily,
Godley & Creme,
Sugar Minott,
Colin Newman,
Whodini,
Public Image Ltd.,
Alphaville,
K-Klass,
Monolake,
Wally Richardson,
the Normal,
Fugazi,
The Stooges,
Carl Craig,
Peter & Gordon,
Soulsonic Force,
Arthur Verocai,
LL Cool J,
The Gun Club,
JFA,
T. Rex,
Faust,
The Busters,
MC5,
Marine Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fad Gadget,
Marshall Jefferson,
Guru Guru,
Albert Ayler,
The Divine Comedy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fugs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Iggy Pop,
Dual Sessions,
The Offenders,
Easy Going,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Reed,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bob Dylan,
John Foxx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yaz,
Desert Stars,
Wings,
Al Stewart,
EPMD,
Hoover,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
Oneida,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.