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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
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 guitar 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 Pole to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Intrusion,
Tim Buckley,
Organ,
Livin' Joy,
Severed Heads,
Joy Division,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nik Kershaw,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eddi Front,
Little Man,
Byron Stingily,
Qualms,
Clear Light,
EPMD,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Young Marble Giants,
Harry Pussy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nation of Ulysses,
Blancmange,
Bauhaus,
Cluster,
Moby Grape,
Tommy Roe,
The Selecter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crooked Eye,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radiohead,
Circle Jerks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Josef K,
Metal Thangz,
Barry Ungar,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Banda Bassotti,
The Monochrome Set,
Tropical Tobacco,
F. McDonald,
Colin Newman,
Hot Snakes,
Monks,
Babytalk,
the Human League,
Agent Orange,
Flipper,
John Cale,
Gong,
Pere Ubu,
Juan Atkins,
The Doors,
Minutemen,
Average White Band,
The Human League,
The Raincoats,
The Moody Blues,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Trojans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Saints,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.