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 Korea North and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marvin Gaye to the rock 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
New York Dolls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ituana,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Monks,
Boredoms,
The Cowsills,
Fatback Band,
The Blues Magoos,
La Düsseldorf,
Make Up,
Hoover,
Derrick May,
Suburban Knight,
Arthur Verocai,
John Coltrane,
Crooked Eye,
Joy Division,
Ohio Players,
Dead Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Arab on Radar,
Grey Daturas,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Christie,
Rod Modell,
Ronan,
B.T. Express,
Fat Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sparks,
F. McDonald,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joey Negro,
Organ,
John Lydon,
Al Stewart,
Henry Cow,
Janne Schatter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
PIL,
Supertramp,
Sam Rivers,
New Age Steppers,
Robert Görl,
The Pretty Things,
The Selecter,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gap Band,
Inner City,
Siglo XX,
Joyce Sims,
New Order,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick Morgan,
Spoonie Gee,
Wings,
Black Bananas,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.