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 Thailand and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 48th St. Collective to the rock 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
ABBA,
Trumans Water,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Quando Quango,
a-ha,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Standells,
The Gap Band,
The Smoke,
John Lydon,
Vladislav Delay,
Monks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Saints,
Kenny Larkin,
Lakeside,
Franke,
the Bar-Kays,
Robert Görl,
Brick,
Thee Headcoats,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pole,
Bobby Womack,
The Skatalites,
Scratch Acid,
Thompson Twins,
Amazonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
The Electric Prunes,
Fugazi,
Mantronix,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marmalade,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kaleidoscope,
Skriet,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Theoretical Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Subhumans,
Mars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lungfish,
Eric Dolphy,
Scion,
Mo-Dettes,
Cameo,
Suicide,
The Raincoats,
Skaos,
Johnny Clarke,
Barclay James Harvest,
Talk Talk,
Ice-T,
Sonic Youth,
The Star Department,
The Beau Brummels,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.