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 Bhutan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar 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 Gerry Rafferty to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Tom Boy,
Stiv Bators,
The Birthday Party,
World's Most,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Byron Stingily,
The Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
Brass Construction,
Piero Umiliani,
Tubeway Army,
The Busters,
Wasted Youth,
The Residents,
Severed Heads,
Rhythm & Sound,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Green,
The Wake,
The New Christs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jacob Miller,
Infiniti,
The Skatalites,
Radio Birdman,
The Last Poets,
the Sonics,
Livin' Joy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joensuu 1685,
L. Decosne,
OOIOO,
Ludus,
The American Breed,
Rakim,
Dawn Penn,
Ice-T,
Fad Gadget,
The Knickerbockers,
Derrick May,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Theoretical Girls,
Al Stewart,
Wolf Eyes,
The Divine Comedy,
Ossler,
Nirvana,
Ultra Naté,
The Misunderstood,
Kas Product,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scott Walker,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Outsiders,
Lakeside,
Electric Prunes,
Kenny Larkin,
Charles Mingus,
Sister Nancy,
Talk Talk,
Sparks,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.