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 Iceland and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Knickerbockers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Icehouse,
Jeff Lynne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Buckinghams,
Symarip,
Roxette,
Jacob Miller,
Shoche,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wire,
Bootsy Collins,
Schoolly D,
Amon Düül,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pagans,
Sam Rivers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Peter and Kerry,
Moss Icon,
Bad Manners,
The Kinks,
Moby Grape,
48th St. Collective,
The Red Krayola,
the Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
The American Breed,
The Music Machine,
Lakeside,
Popol Vuh,
Ice-T,
Scan 7,
Harry Pussy,
Infiniti,
The Wake,
Black Pus,
Kayak,
The Durutti Column,
Sexual Harrassment,
Niagra,
The Cramps,
MDC,
Pet Shop Boys,
Technova,
Laurel Aitken,
The Count Five,
Bill Near,
Rites of Spring,
Television,
Moebius,
Flipper,
Severed Heads,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soul Sonic Force,
ABBA,
The Smiths,
Johnny Clarke,
The Five Americans,
Jacques Brel,
Youth Brigade,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.