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 Mexico and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Fluxion to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
the Swans,
Isaac Hayes,
Terry Callier,
Eve St. Jones,
Gichy Dan,
Pulsallama,
Organ,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sex Pistols,
The Moody Blues,
Dark Day,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hasil Adkins,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fear,
PIL,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stetsasonic,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Wake,
Bob Dylan,
Moebius,
John Cale,
Stiv Bators,
The Smiths,
The Moleskins,
Donald Byrd,
D'Angelo,
EPMD,
Roxy Music,
Erykah Badu,
The Cowsills,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Byrd,
Pere Ubu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nils Olav,
Quando Quango,
Interpol,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warsaw,
Goldenarms,
The Red Krayola,
Minor Threat,
Smog,
Glenn Branca,
Livin' Joy,
Mr. Review,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Real Kids,
Make Up,
The American Breed,
Arcadia,
The Neon Judgement,
Carl Craig,
Gang Starr,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.