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 Belgium and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ornette Coleman to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers 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 grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Crime,
The Moody Blues,
Slick Rick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
One Last Wish,
The Leaves,
Roger Hodgson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Last Poets,
The Martian,
Soft Machine,
the Human League,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-101,
Clear Light,
Suicide,
Deepchord,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lucky Dragons,
Scion,
Bush Tetras,
The Move,
Nation of Ulysses,
Moss Icon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sister Nancy,
The Evens,
Steve Hackett,
Sandy B,
Unwound,
Rufus Thomas,
Reuben Wilson,
Godley & Creme,
Livin' Joy,
Country Teasers,
Parry Music,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Electric Prunes,
Archie Shepp,
Maurizio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crooked Eye,
FM Einheit,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soulsonic Force,
Rites of Spring,
Eurythmics,
Yellowson,
the Bar-Kays,
The Index,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ossler,
Section 25,
Sparks,
The Selecter,
Stiv Bators,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
This Heat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Smiths,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.