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 Cambodia and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gabor Szabo to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Johnny Clarke,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lou Christie,
Pantytec,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sun Ra,
Henry Cow,
Man Parrish,
Ronnie Foster,
Youth Brigade,
Excepter,
Eddi Front,
Gang Starr,
John Coltrane,
Pharoah Sanders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Flesh Eaters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Radiopuhelimet,
48th St. Collective,
Niagra,
Robert Hood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Evens,
Can,
Ohio Players,
Minutemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lightning Bolt,
John Foxx,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Popol Vuh,
Altered Images,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Byrd,
Blake Baxter,
Au Pairs,
AZ,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cal Tjader,
Skarface,
Ronan,
Barry Ungar,
Thompson Twins,
the Sonics,
kango's stein massive,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Spoonie Gee,
The Saints,
Adolescents,
David Axelrod,
MC5,
Hoover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Teasers,
Scion,
Fear,
Angry Samoans,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.