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 the UAE and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Theoretical Girls to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The United States of America,
The Raincoats,
Scion,
The Red Krayola,
Johnny Clarke,
Monks,
Tres Demented,
CMW,
Kevin Saunderson,
Alphaville,
Terrestrial Tones,
Interpol,
Boredoms,
The Moody Blues,
Country Teasers,
Terry Callier,
Archie Shepp,
A Certain Ratio,
Brothers Johnson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nas,
Smog,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gun Club,
Aswad,
Marine Girls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dead Boys,
Darondo,
The Fall,
Hot Snakes,
The Remains,
Thompson Twins,
Cybotron,
a-ha,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crime,
The Selecter,
Derrick May,
Fugazi,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Machine,
Vladislav Delay,
The Blues Magoos,
The Real Kids,
Janne Schatter,
Cymande,
T.S.O.L.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sun Ra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Maurizio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Isaac Hayes,
The Kinks,
Wasted Youth,
Con Funk Shun,
Jawbox,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Lydon,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.