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 East Timor and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Holger Czukay 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 Curtis Mayfield to the punk 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Angels of Light,
Vladislav Delay,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Moody Blues,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joe Finger,
Black Moon,
T.S.O.L.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Model 500,
Arab on Radar,
Letta Mbulu,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Henry Cow,
The Litter,
Flamin' Groovies,
New Age Steppers,
Hashim,
Chris Corsano,
The Seeds,
the Swans,
Intrusion,
Deakin,
Sparks,
Byron Stingily,
The Happenings,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
48th St. Collective,
Robert Wyatt,
Crooked Eye,
The Velvet Underground,
Mark Hollis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Porter Ricks,
CMW,
Hardrive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gun Club,
Gregory Isaacs,
New York Dolls,
Cheater Slicks,
Sister Nancy,
Ponytail,
Sandy B,
Pole,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Make Up,
Clear Light,
John Coltrane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Busters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Idris Muhammad,
Lightning Bolt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cowsills,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.