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 Marshall Islands and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Lee Hazlewood 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Con Funk Shun,
Bill Near,
Adolescents,
Steve Hackett,
The J.B.'s,
Soulsonic Force,
Monolake,
Sällskapet,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mojo Men,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lakeside,
Silicon Teens,
Jandek,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Neil Young,
Subhumans,
Mantronix,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Intrusion,
Goldenarms,
Urselle,
Colin Newman,
Section 25,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Last Poets,
The Saints,
The Standells,
Pole,
Aloha Tigers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fugazi,
Jeff Lynne,
Motorama,
The Residents,
Spandau Ballet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Motions,
Talk Talk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gabor Szabo,
A Certain Ratio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Soul II Soul,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lower 48,
Laurel Aitken,
Jerry's Kids,
Tommy Roe,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fatback Band,
Trumans Water,
kango's stein massive,
Rod Modell,
Nils Olav,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wire,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.