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 Botswana and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe 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 Index to the grunge 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
In Retrospect,
Fear,
Alphaville,
Mr. Review,
Lee Hazlewood,
Josef K,
Dave Gahan,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Pus,
The Invisible,
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Clarke,
Joe Finger,
Marcia Griffiths,
Severed Heads,
Animal Collective,
Leonard Cohen,
The Pop Group,
Tim Buckley,
Agitation Free,
Joyce Sims,
The Fortunes,
Wolf Eyes,
Black Moon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marmalade,
Underground Resistance,
Bill Near,
Mandrill,
The Raincoats,
Half Japanese,
Judy Mowatt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Little Man,
Outsiders,
Tomorrow,
The Index,
Spoonie Gee,
Quadrant,
The Golliwogs,
Deakin,
MC5,
the Soft Cell,
Rapeman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sex Pistols,
Danielle Patucci,
F. McDonald,
Symarip,
Rekid,
Metal Thangz,
Eric Dolphy,
Agent Orange,
Procol Harum,
Grauzone,
Max Romeo,
Gang Starr,
Bush Tetras,
Cal Tjader,
The Last Poets,
DJ Style,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.