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 Solomon Islands and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the punk 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
The New Christs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Toasters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fugs,
The Index,
Hashim,
Eric Dolphy,
Blake Baxter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Clear Light,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Peter and Kerry,
Skriet,
Dual Sessions,
The Red Krayola,
The Mummies,
Roger Hodgson,
Index,
Sister Nancy,
Maurizio,
Surgeon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Offenders,
The Names,
Pylon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Television Personalities,
Lucky Dragons,
Mo-Dettes,
MDC,
In Retrospect,
Yaz,
The Blues Magoos,
Rufus Thomas,
Mr. Review,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marvin Gaye,
the Normal,
Al Stewart,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mantronix,
Wings,
The Zeros,
Colin Newman,
Sparks,
the Sonics,
The Selecter,
The Busters,
Vainqueur,
Fad Gadget,
Brand Nubian,
Susan Cadogan,
Alice Coltrane,
Cymande,
the Germs,
John Coltrane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joensuu 1685,
New Order,
Average White Band,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.