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 Qatar 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lightning Bolt to the rock 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
China Crisis,
The Move,
Lungfish,
Agitation Free,
Joy Division,
The Real Kids,
Anakelly,
Reagan Youth,
JFA,
Young Marble Giants,
The Golliwogs,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang Green,
Black Bananas,
The Blackbyrds,
Barry Ungar,
Pagans,
The Blues Magoos,
Mark Hollis,
Khruangbin,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stereo Dub,
Graham Central Station,
10cc,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ituana,
Dark Day,
Public Enemy,
Sonic Youth,
Judy Mowatt,
Buzzcocks,
Radio Birdman,
Crooked Eye,
Tom Boy,
Boz Scaggs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang of Four,
Terry Callier,
The Durutti Column,
X-101,
Cal Tjader,
Shuggie Otis,
The Last Poets,
Ludus,
Flipper,
Q65,
Television Personalities,
Idris Muhammad,
Bill Wells,
Scientists,
The Smoke,
Black Moon,
Clear Light,
The Selecter,
The Seeds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Maleditus Sound,
Mr. Review,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.