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 Honduras and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 New York Dolls to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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?
David Axelrod,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobby Sherman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Khruangbin,
Agent Orange,
Faraquet,
Skarface,
Oblivians,
Pulsallama,
The American Breed,
Porter Ricks,
Terry Callier,
cv313,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Minny Pops,
a-ha,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sandy B,
The Names,
MC5,
The Moleskins,
Ludus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gun Club,
Byron Stingily,
The Dirtbombs,
Sparks,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nico,
Fela Kuti,
OOIOO,
These Immortal Souls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Albert Ayler,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arcadia,
Maleditus Sound,
Brass Construction,
X-101,
Lou Christie,
Eli Mardock,
Electric Prunes,
Mandrill,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jawbox,
Sun City Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Warren Ellis,
Rakim,
Malaria!,
Hardrive,
The Skatalites,
Piero Umiliani,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.