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 Egypt and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Cal Tjader to the electroclash 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Yellowson,
Gong,
Boz Scaggs,
Sixth Finger,
The Real Kids,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Skarface,
Byron Stingily,
DJ Style,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Barrington Levy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Davy DMX,
Talk Talk,
Peter & Gordon,
Television Personalities,
Eddi Front,
The Invisible,
Soft Machine,
Electric Prunes,
Man Eating Sloth,
The United States of America,
Basic Channel,
The Blues Magoos,
Sugar Minott,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ronnie Foster,
The Sound,
The Stooges,
Fat Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Brothers Johnson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dawn Penn,
E-Dancer,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacob Miller,
Circle Jerks,
the Germs,
Wolf Eyes,
Tim Buckley,
Rosa Yemen,
June Days,
Lindisfarne,
The Toasters,
Marvin Gaye,
Traffic Nightmare,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cowsills,
The Monochrome Set,
Bronski Beat,
Liliput,
Howard Jones,
Connie Case,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fall,
MC5,
Nick Fraelich,
The Five Americans,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.