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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Dave Clark Five to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy Collins,
Pantytec,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sällskapet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun City Girls,
Dark Day,
Gerry Rafferty,
Charles Mingus,
Jerry's Kids,
Patti Smith,
Echospace,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Clear Light,
Yusef Lateef,
Royal Trux,
Don Cherry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blues Magoos,
One Last Wish,
Slave,
The American Breed,
the Germs,
OOIOO,
Average White Band,
Fatback Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Half Japanese,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Searchers,
The Stooges,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeff Lynne,
Nils Olav,
Little Man,
D'Angelo,
Pussy Galore,
The Sonics,
Gang Starr,
Gang Gang Dance,
Radio Birdman,
New Age Steppers,
H. Thieme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Niagra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultravox,
Graham Central Station,
Crispian St. Peters,
Michelle Simonal,
The Offenders,
The Smoke,
Nico,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kas Product,
Underground Resistance,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.