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 Luxembourg and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 The Velvet Underground to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Peter and Kerry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Pantytec,
The Young Rascals,
The Sonics,
The Motions,
Gil Scott Heron,
Blossom Toes,
E-Dancer,
Kerri Chandler,
The Electric Prunes,
Kas Product,
Half Japanese,
Sonic Youth,
Black Bananas,
Guru Guru,
Boogie Down Productions,
Camberwell Now,
The Doobie Brothers,
Johnny Clarke,
Kenny Larkin,
Stereo Dub,
The Fortunes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cowsills,
Subhumans,
Ten City,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bad Manners,
John Coltrane,
Graham Central Station,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Iggy Pop,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gang of Four,
X-102,
Animal Collective,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
UT,
Kayak,
Jacques Brel,
Fat Boys,
John Lydon,
Yazoo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scion,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
La Düsseldorf,
The Durutti Column,
Isaac Hayes,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
The Pretty Things,
Lyres,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.