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 Serbia and from Johannesburg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
The United States of America,
Inner City,
The Martian,
Blake Baxter,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Young Rascals,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Donny Hathaway,
Dawn Penn,
Maurizio,
The Seeds,
The Dead C,
The Leaves,
The Misunderstood,
Ronnie Foster,
Anakelly,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deepchord,
The Smoke,
Porter Ricks,
The Sound,
Slave,
Q and Not U,
Cal Tjader,
Aloha Tigers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Basic Channel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pagans,
Masters at Work,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
E-Dancer,
Radio Birdman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fluxion,
Jacques Brel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang Starr,
Danielle Patucci,
Nick Fraelich,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Animal Collective,
Bluetip,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Theoretical Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Flipper,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Flash Fearless,
Con Funk Shun,
The Invisible,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sight & Sound,
Black Flag,
Bad Manners,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Simply Red,
New York Dolls,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.