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 Eritrea and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
The Star Department,
Moebius,
The Pretty Things,
The Busters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Junior Murvin,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Schoolly D,
Aloha Tigers,
China Crisis,
Pussy Galore,
Moss Icon,
Unwound,
Index,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Magma,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tears for Fears,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
48th St. Collective,
Eric Dolphy,
New York Dolls,
AZ,
Gang Green,
Blancmange,
Susan Cadogan,
Swell Maps,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joey Negro,
Mad Mike,
David Axelrod,
Marine Girls,
Wings,
Country Teasers,
Monks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Angry Samoans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fuzztones,
Rakim,
Liliput,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
New Age Steppers,
Slick Rick,
Robert Wyatt,
Whodini,
the Human League,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Albert Ayler,
Scott Walker,
The Moleskins,
Iggy Pop,
Chrome,
Little Man,
Fat Boys,
The Martian,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.