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 Ecuador and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Audionom to the grunge 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Crime,
Aaron Thompson,
The Names,
Lyres,
Pantytec,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eve St. Jones,
Swell Maps,
Adolescents,
Roy Ayers,
Darondo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crooked Eye,
The Dirtbombs,
Chris Corsano,
Marshall Jefferson,
T. Rex,
Matthew Halsall,
The Beau Brummels,
Negative Approach,
Barry Ungar,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
Todd Terry,
Maleditus Sound,
Byron Stingily,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
In Retrospect,
Nas,
Fear,
Masters at Work,
The Wake,
Japan,
Magma,
The Moody Blues,
Qualms,
Sparks,
Icehouse,
Oblivians,
Television,
Mad Mike,
Cameo,
Hasil Adkins,
the Human League,
Popol Vuh,
Angry Samoans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Doors,
Jawbox,
Lakeside,
Los Fastidios,
Severed Heads,
The Last Poets,
cv313,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Quantec,
Half Japanese,
Sandy B,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.