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 Uganda and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Todd Rundgren to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Charles Mingus,
The Toasters,
The Names,
The Divine Comedy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Maleditus Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Happenings,
Deadbeat,
Boz Scaggs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Hood,
Basic Channel,
Fat Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
Maurizio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Slackers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Colin Newman,
Letta Mbulu,
Y Pants,
Grey Daturas,
Piero Umiliani,
Qualms,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Scratch Acid,
Sun Ra,
The Victims,
Roy Ayers,
Todd Rundgren,
Bad Manners,
Spandau Ballet,
Arab on Radar,
F. McDonald,
Khruangbin,
Q and Not U,
K-Klass,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Move,
The Blackbyrds,
The Vogues,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
Blossom Toes,
Peter & Gordon,
Deakin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Theoretical Girls,
The Evens,
Ornette Coleman,
Slick Rick,
Soul II Soul,
Skaos,
Sexual Harrassment,
Reuben Wilson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minutemen,
Brothers Johnson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.