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 Italy and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Harpers Bizarre to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wally Richardson,
Boredoms,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Pagans,
The Associates,
The Alarm Clocks,
Donald Byrd,
Man Parrish,
Urselle,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joey Negro,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Womack,
KRS-One,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lucky Dragons,
The Golliwogs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Slackers,
CMW,
Gregory Isaacs,
Faraquet,
Kayak,
Bill Near,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The American Breed,
Fluxion,
Adolescents,
The Count Five,
Thee Headcoats,
T. Rex,
K-Klass,
the Germs,
Leonard Cohen,
Nas,
Audionom,
Cybotron,
Heaven 17,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Young Rascals,
World's Most,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fear,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jerry's Kids,
Barrington Levy,
Pantaleimon,
Schoolly D,
Sällskapet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
a-ha,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cal Tjader,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.