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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Laurel Aitken to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Lungfish,
Shuggie Otis,
Dawn Penn,
The Angels of Light,
Pagans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Skarface,
Boredoms,
Lightning Bolt,
Supertramp,
Roy Ayers,
Flipper,
The Red Krayola,
Minny Pops,
Eve St. Jones,
E-Dancer,
Porter Ricks,
Arcadia,
Yusef Lateef,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ludus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Grass Roots,
The Gladiators,
Unrelated Segments,
The Misunderstood,
Yellowson,
Arab on Radar,
Sonic Youth,
Fear,
Pere Ubu,
Janne Schatter,
The Fuzztones,
Gong,
Andrew Hill,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Raincoats,
Slave,
Albert Ayler,
Mr. Review,
Roxette,
Silicon Teens,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The United States of America,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ken Boothe,
The New Christs,
The Pretty Things,
Niagra,
Y Pants,
Q and Not U,
The Fortunes,
Junior Murvin,
The Evens,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Rundgren,
China Crisis,
John Foxx,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.