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 Haiti and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the dance 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
The Searchers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Altered Images,
Moby Grape,
Iggy Pop,
The Residents,
Soft Machine,
Chris Corsano,
Ohio Players,
Kerrie Biddell,
Negative Approach,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Darondo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alphaville,
Grauzone,
Roy Ayers,
The Mummies,
The Names,
Electric Prunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aural Exciters,
Prince Buster,
The Litter,
The Cure,
Surgeon,
The Human League,
Organ,
Man Parrish,
Siglo XX,
Crispian St. Peters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nico,
Half Japanese,
Althea and Donna,
Brick,
Donny Hathaway,
OOIOO,
Fela Kuti,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fortunes,
The Saints,
Crooked Eye,
H. Thieme,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dave Clark Five,
Radiohead,
the Sonics,
Depeche Mode,
Charles Mingus,
Yaz,
Piero Umiliani,
Eden Ahbez,
Sällskapet,
Grandmaster Flash,
Clear Light,
the Association,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alton Ellis,
Jacques Brel,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.