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 Ecuador and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Real Kids to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Mission of Burma,
Smog,
Minnie Riperton,
Scientists,
Con Funk Shun,
Sonic Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Raincoats,
Stetsasonic,
The New Christs,
Tommy Roe,
Television Personalities,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
Rekid,
Hashim,
Flipper,
Big Daddy Kane,
Agent Orange,
Mantronix,
Procol Harum,
Newcleus,
Darondo,
The Music Machine,
Funkadelic,
Bush Tetras,
Masters at Work,
Accadde A,
Scratch Acid,
Ken Boothe,
The Buckinghams,
Joe Smooth,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang of Four,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Red Krayola,
Todd Terry,
Swell Maps,
Average White Band,
KRS-One,
Malaria!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Section 25,
Lebanon Hanover,
Blancmange,
Soul Sonic Force,
Siglo XX,
FM Einheit,
The Moody Blues,
The Monks,
OOIOO,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Busters,
Robert Görl,
Negative Approach,
Ohio Players,
Marshall Jefferson,
Letta Mbulu,
Icehouse,
Livin' Joy,
Dawn Penn,
Oneida,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.