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 Finland and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
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 sitar 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the punk 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Mantronix,
The Beau Brummels,
Ralphi Rosario,
Negative Approach,
John Foxx,
The Raincoats,
Angry Samoans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Letta Mbulu,
The Dead C,
Roy Ayers,
The Fuzztones,
Dual Sessions,
Slave,
Saccharine Trust,
Barry Ungar,
The Grass Roots,
Faust,
Juan Atkins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gabor Szabo,
The Residents,
Drive Like Jehu,
MDC,
Sex Pistols,
One Last Wish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Archie Shepp,
The Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
Con Funk Shun,
Derrick May,
The Angels of Light,
Cal Tjader,
Ituana,
Donny Hathaway,
Make Up,
Heaven 17,
Country Teasers,
Carl Craig,
Don Cherry,
Technova,
DJ Sneak,
Kaleidoscope,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Sherman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Dave Gahan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scott Walker,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dave Clark Five,
Erasure,
Avey Tare,
Sound Behaviour,
Fatback Band,
Second Layer,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.