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 Guinea-Bissau 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Black Flag to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
The Barracudas,
Rufus Thomas,
The Fugs,
Jerry's Kids,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blake Baxter,
Idris Muhammad,
Bauhaus,
Loose Ends,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bang On A Can,
Rotary Connection,
Bob Dylan,
The Victims,
Charles Mingus,
Marine Girls,
The Misunderstood,
Royal Trux,
Technova,
The Divine Comedy,
John Cale,
Terrestrial Tones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ossler,
The Buckinghams,
Stetsasonic,
Motorama,
The Dead C,
8 Eyed Spy,
R.M.O.,
Cameo,
Das Ding,
Kas Product,
These Immortal Souls,
Deakin,
Radio Birdman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scrapy,
Pantytec,
Nas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sugar Minott,
Jesper Dahlback,
Maleditus Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scan 7,
Bobby Byrd,
The Shadows of Knight,
Warren Ellis,
John Holt,
Eddi Front,
The Human League,
Dark Day,
The Associates,
Roy Ayers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wasted Youth,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.