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 Czech Republic and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator 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 Residents to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
The Standells,
Warren Ellis,
Malaria!,
Clear Light,
Alice Coltrane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Human League,
China Crisis,
The Offenders,
Cymande,
Ossler,
Rod Modell,
Can,
Throbbing Gristle,
Josef K,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Oneida,
Country Teasers,
Eric Dolphy,
Scrapy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Connie Case,
The Fall,
Rekid,
Dorothy Ashby,
Man Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
The Star Department,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Moby Grape,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Vainqueur,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Remains,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Smog,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Excepter,
Pulsallama,
FM Einheit,
Subhumans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bush Tetras,
Jeff Lynne,
Scion,
Angry Samoans,
X-102,
Wasted Youth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shuggie Otis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bob Dylan,
Anthony Braxton,
Cheater Slicks,
The Skatalites,
The Fire Engines,
CMW,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.