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 Lesotho and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum 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 kango's stein massive to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ossler,
Stetsasonic,
The Standells,
The Smiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Swans,
Wasted Youth,
Maleditus Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scientists,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kayak,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dirtbombs,
Sarah Menescal,
Bauhaus,
The Residents,
Mark Hollis,
Agent Orange,
Ultravox,
Shuggie Otis,
Sixth Finger,
Adolescents,
B.T. Express,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roy Ayers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pierre Henry,
Youth Brigade,
Colin Newman,
Minor Threat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Bananas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Slave,
Black Sheep,
La Düsseldorf,
Make Up,
The Mojo Men,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soulsonic Force,
Royal Trux,
Funkadelic,
Can,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Sherman,
Toni Rubio,
The Martian,
Morten Harket,
The Litter,
Patti Smith,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mad Mike,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sun City Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Depeche Mode,
Black Pus,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.