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 Mexico and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Deepchord,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fall,
10cc,
Hardrive,
Boz Scaggs,
Marvin Gaye,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ohio Players,
KRS-One,
Donald Byrd,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Country Teasers,
Monks,
The Standells,
Arthur Verocai,
Mandrill,
Siglo XX,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wally Richardson,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Count Five,
The Divine Comedy,
Bobby Womack,
The Names,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Supertramp,
E-Dancer,
Funkadelic,
Lightning Bolt,
Smog,
Erykah Badu,
The Fire Engines,
Magma,
John Foxx,
Pantaleimon,
David McCallum,
Stereo Dub,
Alphaville,
The Residents,
Soul Sonic Force,
Royal Trux,
The Moleskins,
Boredoms,
DNA,
The Smiths,
Ronnie Foster,
Lakeside,
David Axelrod,
China Crisis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
MC5,
Gabor Szabo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roxy Music,
Excepter,
Dave Gahan,
Joe Finger,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pole,
Intrusion,
James White and The Blacks,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.