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 Greece and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Sonics,
Franke,
Amazonics,
Skaos,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Laurel Aitken,
Scrapy,
Banda Bassotti,
Amon Düül II,
The Buckinghams,
Yaz,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Desert Stars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Trumans Water,
48th St. Collective,
Ossler,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minny Pops,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Matthew Bourne,
Mark Hollis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jawbox,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joyce Sims,
Grandmaster Flash,
Derrick Morgan,
The Five Americans,
Stereo Dub,
Mary Jane Girls,
Au Pairs,
D'Angelo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Massinfluence,
The Litter,
The Seeds,
Alphaville,
The Monochrome Set,
Easy Going,
Young Marble Giants,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Morten Harket,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeff Lynne,
The Count Five,
The Kinks,
Bill Near,
Arab on Radar,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Coltrane,
Television,
Matthew Halsall,
Deakin,
Livin' Joy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fire Engines,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.