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 Suriname and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 The Seeds to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Prunes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Organ,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sällskapet,
Warren Ellis,
the Normal,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Busters,
Tim Buckley,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ronnie Foster,
The Grass Roots,
Marine Girls,
The Last Poets,
Procol Harum,
Gerry Rafferty,
The New Christs,
Franke,
The Slackers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Teasers,
F. McDonald,
Sandy B,
Barry Ungar,
These Immortal Souls,
Al Stewart,
Iggy Pop,
Ultimate Spinach,
48th St. Collective,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Skaos,
Marvin Gaye,
The Litter,
David Axelrod,
Make Up,
Babytalk,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Steve Hackett,
Lebanon Hanover,
E-Dancer,
UT,
The American Breed,
Kayak,
L. Decosne,
Sex Pistols,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Sonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Heaven 17,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Victims,
Quantec,
Tubeway Army,
The Music Machine,
Andrew Hill,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.