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 Germany and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet 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 Jeff Lynne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Bad Manners,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roger Hodgson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
DJ Style,
Camberwell Now,
PIL,
Bauhaus,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Pus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Wells,
The J.B.'s,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lee Hazlewood,
June of 44,
Amon Düül II,
Junior Murvin,
The Toasters,
Aural Exciters,
The Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blossom Toes,
Franke,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Patti Smith,
Nation of Ulysses,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vainqueur,
Ultimate Spinach,
Altered Images,
the Association,
The Stooges,
The Skatalites,
Tomorrow,
Slave,
Hashim,
Monolake,
the Sonics,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Divine Comedy,
UT,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quantec,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wings,
Ronnie Foster,
The Five Americans,
48th St. Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
Easy Going,
Roxy Music,
Oblivians,
Deadbeat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.