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 Libya and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Flamin' Groovies to the punk 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Reed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Make Up,
Wolf Eyes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lalann,
Wally Richardson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blossom Toes,
Josef K,
Simply Red,
Minnie Riperton,
The Remains,
Eric Dolphy,
Skaos,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gang of Four,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Neon Judgement,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Royal Trux,
Severed Heads,
Sister Nancy,
Popol Vuh,
Alton Ellis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Lydon,
Tres Demented,
The American Breed,
Theoretical Girls,
Matthew Bourne,
The United States of America,
The Cramps,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ornette Coleman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sight & Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
D'Angelo,
Drexciya,
R.M.O.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Glambeats Corp.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Swell Maps,
Skriet,
Excepter,
Swans,
Brass Construction,
Joe Finger,
Absolute Body Control,
Isaac Hayes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bob Dylan,
Mad Mike,
Hasil Adkins,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.