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 Botswana and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Second Layer,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pagans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Holt,
Alison Limerick,
Maleditus Sound,
Patti Smith,
Arcadia,
Man Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soul II Soul,
Quando Quango,
Royal Trux,
Model 500,
Tres Demented,
The Saints,
Crime,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gichy Dan,
The Searchers,
Zapp,
Ronan,
Panda Bear,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Skriet,
The Pretty Things,
Camberwell Now,
These Immortal Souls,
Pole,
Section 25,
Index,
Steve Hackett,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang of Four,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pantaleimon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mad Mike,
John Coltrane,
Fela Kuti,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brand Nubian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sparks,
Bang On A Can,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Susan Cadogan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Youth Brigade,
Dead Boys,
The Misunderstood,
Barrington Levy,
E-Dancer,
The Toasters,
Vainqueur,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tubeway Army,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ohio Players,
Pulsallama,
Ten City,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.