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 Philippines and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fat Boys to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Saccharine Trust,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cure,
Banda Bassotti,
Junior Murvin,
Eden Ahbez,
Circle Jerks,
Howard Jones,
Alison Limerick,
Amon Düül II,
Robert Wyatt,
Hashim,
Rotary Connection,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camouflage,
Neu!,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ossler,
Byron Stingily,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rapeman,
The Skatalites,
Groovy Waters,
Pulsallama,
Chris Corsano,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Archie Shepp,
Dark Day,
Susan Cadogan,
Cybotron,
The Fire Engines,
The Count Five,
ABC,
Warsaw,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mummies,
Motorama,
These Immortal Souls,
Unwound,
The Young Rascals,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Slick Rick,
Bush Tetras,
Funkadelic,
Swans,
Alton Ellis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rakim,
Lou Christie,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lower 48,
Bauhaus,
Rod Modell,
LL Cool J,
Quadrant,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marvin Gaye,
The Pretty Things,
Pere Ubu,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.