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 Mauritius and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar 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 The Standells to the dance 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smoke,
Black Flag,
Tomorrow,
Rod Modell,
Black Sheep,
B.T. Express,
The Doobie Brothers,
Intrusion,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Leonard Cohen,
Rites of Spring,
Jawbox,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Althea and Donna,
Gang Green,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Vogues,
Blancmange,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Stooges,
The Music Machine,
Josef K,
Pole,
Whodini,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kurtis Blow,
Parry Music,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Associates,
Gang of Four,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jacques Brel,
Isaac Hayes,
Mo-Dettes,
June of 44,
the Bar-Kays,
X-101,
Radiohead,
The Dead C,
Interpol,
Soft Machine,
Lou Christie,
Dennis Brown,
Swell Maps,
Flipper,
DJ Style,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Faraquet,
The Walker Brothers,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flash Fearless,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Grauzone,
Nirvana,
Ronnie Foster,
Bad Manners,
Janne Schatter,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.