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 Pakistan and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Move to the crunk 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front 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?
Malaria!,
Maurizio,
Skaos,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pantytec,
The Modern Lovers,
Accadde A,
The Wake,
Jesper Dahlback,
Buzzcocks,
The Victims,
These Immortal Souls,
Little Man,
Arab on Radar,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fugs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bronski Beat,
Fluxion,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Happenings,
H. Thieme,
One Last Wish,
Lindisfarne,
Marine Girls,
Panda Bear,
Eric B and Rakim,
Todd Rundgren,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
kango's stein massive,
Judy Mowatt,
Eli Mardock,
Matthew Halsall,
Harmonia,
The Searchers,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Raincoats,
Rakim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Roxette,
John Foxx,
Johnny Osbourne,
Archie Shepp,
Saccharine Trust,
Funkadelic,
Siglo XX,
The Slits,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Supertramp,
The Music Machine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Seeds,
Q and Not U,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minny Pops,
Black Flag,
Swans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Groovy Waters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.