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 Lesotho and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron 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 Bang On A Can to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Theoretical Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Eric Dolphy,
The Litter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amazonics,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dead Boys,
The Zeros,
The Birthday Party,
Neu!,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jeff Lynne,
Lightning Bolt,
Surgeon,
David McCallum,
Supertramp,
The Count Five,
Sparks,
Metal Thangz,
Gabor Szabo,
48th St. Collective,
Cybotron,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fluxion,
Cluster,
Quando Quango,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mantronix,
The Remains,
Sister Nancy,
The Dead C,
Isaac Hayes,
Second Layer,
Wally Richardson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Idris Muhammad,
Buzzcocks,
cv313,
Alton Ellis,
Motorama,
Porter Ricks,
The Selecter,
Peter and Kerry,
Flash Fearless,
DJ Style,
Hashim,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barry Ungar,
Nik Kershaw,
The Angels of Light,
Hot Snakes,
The Dirtbombs,
UT,
The Cowsills,
Sugar Minott,
Kevin Saunderson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.