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 Bangladesh and from New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Mummies 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sparks,
Camberwell Now,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mission of Burma,
Kerri Chandler,
Television,
Organ,
The Blackbyrds,
The Star Department,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Monochrome Set,
The Move,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Byron Stingily,
The Electric Prunes,
Mandrill,
Warren Ellis,
DJ Style,
Rekid,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marc Almond,
Maurizio,
Goldenarms,
The Names,
Royal Trux,
Bill Wells,
Max Romeo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ultra Naté,
Jerry's Kids,
Hashim,
Monks,
Gang Starr,
Theoretical Girls,
The Motions,
Wings,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mr. Review,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Metal Thangz,
Minutemen,
L. Decosne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stiv Bators,
Oblivians,
Patti Smith,
Drexciya,
Mars,
Pierre Henry,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed,
Magazine,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Durutti Column,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Byrd,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.