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 Estonia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Hoover to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Aaron Thompson,
Gichy Dan,
Agent Orange,
Lucky Dragons,
Ornette Coleman,
Scion,
Animal Collective,
Silicon Teens,
Johnny Osbourne,
Josef K,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Minnie Riperton,
the Germs,
Warsaw,
Inner City,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Donald Byrd,
Sandy B,
Trumans Water,
One Last Wish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Funky Four + One,
Crooked Eye,
Brothers Johnson,
Harry Pussy,
Skaos,
Kenny Larkin,
R.M.O.,
Gong,
Anakelly,
The Music Machine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Babytalk,
Juan Atkins,
Gerry Rafferty,
World's Most,
Roy Ayers,
Scratch Acid,
Shoche,
Underground Resistance,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harmonia,
Intrusion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Depeche Mode,
Shuggie Otis,
Boredoms,
Johnny Clarke,
Hasil Adkins,
Robert Wyatt,
The Busters,
The Remains,
John Lydon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lakeside,
Urselle,
The Divine Comedy,
Harpers Bizarre,
David Axelrod,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.