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 Bahamas and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ronnie Foster to the punk 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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Lyres,
Gang Gang Dance,
Boredoms,
Surgeon,
Arab on Radar,
Organ,
The Leaves,
Massinfluence,
Motorama,
Young Marble Giants,
Chris Corsano,
The Walker Brothers,
Monks,
Cymande,
The Searchers,
Moby Grape,
Warsaw,
Max Romeo,
Average White Band,
The Cramps,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mars,
Alison Limerick,
The Real Kids,
Isaac Hayes,
Ice-T,
New Order,
Flipper,
Intrusion,
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Hood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masters at Work,
The Monks,
Funky Four + One,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Andrew Hill,
F. McDonald,
David Axelrod,
ABC,
The Misunderstood,
Agitation Free,
Dorothy Ashby,
Man Parrish,
Ultra Naté,
The Remains,
Pole,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Q and Not U,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fatback Band,
Joey Negro,
Howard Jones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pierre Henry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.