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 Belgium and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Godley & Creme,
Gabor Szabo,
Juan Atkins,
Mars,
48th St. Collective,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Cell,
Bizarre Inc.,
X-Ray Spex,
John Holt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crime,
CMW,
Todd Terry,
Marmalade,
AZ,
Q65,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Vladislav Delay,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aswad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Desert Stars,
Hashim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Massinfluence,
The Searchers,
The Names,
These Immortal Souls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sex Pistols,
Nirvana,
Brand Nubian,
Harpers Bizarre,
Smog,
The Slackers,
Darondo,
Whodini,
The Cramps,
Little Man,
Tim Buckley,
Amon Düül,
Mary Jane Girls,
Suicide,
Hasil Adkins,
Scion,
The Neon Judgement,
Con Funk Shun,
Ronnie Foster,
Sound Behaviour,
Bang On A Can,
Dorothy Ashby,
Interpol,
Swans,
Henry Cow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stetsasonic,
Josef K,
Kas Product,
Severed Heads,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.