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 South Sudan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin 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 Schoolly D to the funk 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
The Barracudas,
Archie Shepp,
Max Romeo,
A Certain Ratio,
Roy Ayers,
the Normal,
Panda Bear,
Darondo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Loose Ends,
Gerry Rafferty,
Quantec,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arcadia,
Marshall Jefferson,
The New Christs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fela Kuti,
Heaven 17,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gladiators,
Lou Reed,
Rekid,
The Stooges,
The Monks,
The Doobie Brothers,
X-Ray Spex,
Nas,
X-101,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Avey Tare,
Flipper,
Josef K,
Scratch Acid,
cv313,
Half Japanese,
John Coltrane,
The Slackers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cymande,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Remains,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Susan Cadogan,
Al Stewart,
This Heat,
Amon Düül II,
Thompson Twins,
AZ,
UT,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kayak,
Siglo XX,
E-Dancer,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Golliwogs,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.