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 Croatia and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Young Rascals to the jazz 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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Five Americans,
CMW,
Camouflage,
DJ Style,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
L. Decosne,
The Misunderstood,
Moss Icon,
Flipper,
Carl Craig,
Lucky Dragons,
Rosa Yemen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agitation Free,
Jeff Lynne,
Scientists,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arcadia,
Moby Grape,
the Normal,
Barclay James Harvest,
ABC,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Juan Atkins,
Man Eating Sloth,
New York Dolls,
Visage,
Warsaw,
UT,
Bluetip,
Gichy Dan,
Black Pus,
Magazine,
Faraquet,
Rotary Connection,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sandy B,
Ultimate Spinach,
Albert Ayler,
Crime,
Talk Talk,
Barry Ungar,
Bauhaus,
The Sound,
The Fall,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Das Ding,
Vladislav Delay,
Unrelated Segments,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barrington Levy,
The Move,
Circle Jerks,
Ronnie Foster,
Patti Smith,
Byron Stingily,
U.S. Maple,
The Dead C,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.