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 Micronesia and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Reagan Youth 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Liliput,
Shuggie Otis,
The American Breed,
The Last Poets,
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
Mark Hollis,
CMW,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Smoke,
Deepchord,
Junior Murvin,
The Martian,
Tubeway Army,
Dead Boys,
Fad Gadget,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Standells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Organ,
Underground Resistance,
Cymande,
Ultra Naté,
Eddi Front,
Infiniti,
Big Daddy Kane,
Quadrant,
Sight & Sound,
The Black Dice,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nico,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Althea and Donna,
Goldenarms,
the Sonics,
Joensuu 1685,
Jeff Lynne,
Alton Ellis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Leonard Cohen,
DNA,
The Skatalites,
Ossler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Sheep,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Section 25,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
ABC,
Parry Music,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Divine Comedy,
Godley & Creme,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Busters,
The Count Five,
Quando Quango,
Donny Hathaway,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.