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 Belgium and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 the Germs to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Charles Mingus,
Barry Ungar,
Pole,
Donald Byrd,
KRS-One,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marvin Gaye,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Techniques,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Searchers,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Music Machine,
Bill Near,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cure,
Jerry's Kids,
Minutemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Byrd,
The Real Kids,
The Victims,
Barbara Tucker,
Moby Grape,
Schoolly D,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Donny Hathaway,
Agitation Free,
The Neon Judgement,
Mr. Review,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Popol Vuh,
Model 500,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Harmonia,
Henry Cow,
Organ,
Tim Buckley,
Ultravox,
Fela Kuti,
Sällskapet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pierre Henry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Infiniti,
Max Romeo,
Swans,
The Residents,
Vladislav Delay,
Supertramp,
Aaron Thompson,
the Swans,
Theoretical Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Urselle,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.