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 Nigeria and from Salvador.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Arthur Verocai to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Deakin,
Derrick May,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Max Romeo,
The Count Five,
The Fugs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nirvana,
The Sonics,
The Techniques,
Joe Finger,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Slackers,
Barry Ungar,
The Raincoats,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-102,
Ituana,
Darondo,
The Gun Club,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Suicide,
Depeche Mode,
Drive Like Jehu,
Excepter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marc Almond,
Cecil Taylor,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Real Kids,
The Martian,
Livin' Joy,
The Moody Blues,
Mantronix,
E-Dancer,
the Human League,
Niagra,
Alton Ellis,
Unwound,
Maleditus Sound,
Bronski Beat,
The Gladiators,
The Leaves,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jacques Brel,
Sex Pistols,
Oneida,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pagans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric Copeland,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hashim,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.