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 Kyrgyzstan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brass Construction to the grime 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Supertramp,
Babytalk,
Toni Rubio,
Nik Kershaw,
Albert Ayler,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scott Walker,
Whodini,
Henry Cow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
CMW,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Drexciya,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amazonics,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sound Behaviour,
Crash Course in Science,
Pylon,
Grauzone,
Bootsy Collins,
Agitation Free,
The Kinks,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ludus,
L. Decosne,
Brick,
Underground Resistance,
T. Rex,
Jacques Brel,
The Sound,
The Doors,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Darondo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Starr,
Harry Pussy,
Scientists,
Excepter,
The Dirtbombs,
Agent Orange,
Scion,
Kurtis Blow,
Graham Central Station,
The Remains,
the Human League,
David Axelrod,
OOIOO,
Sam Rivers,
Los Fastidios,
The Buckinghams,
Thompson Twins,
The Stooges,
Groovy Waters,
The Misunderstood,
Dennis Brown,
Robert Hood,
Second Layer,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.