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 Albania and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 New York Dolls to the funk 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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
The American Breed,
Black Moon,
Lalann,
Malaria!,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crispy Ambulance,
Connie Case,
Sun City Girls,
Cluster,
Sällskapet,
Carl Craig,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-102,
Cal Tjader,
Fugazi,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Wells,
La Düsseldorf,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amazonics,
Flash Fearless,
Black Pus,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Red Krayola,
Jawbox,
Crime,
The Smoke,
The Birthday Party,
Michelle Simonal,
Eden Ahbez,
David McCallum,
EPMD,
The Litter,
The Gap Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Standells,
Chris Corsano,
Surgeon,
Heaven 17,
The Martian,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nirvana,
Blake Baxter,
The Smiths,
Wings,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harpers Bizarre,
Amon Düül,
Panda Bear,
Anthony Braxton,
Wolf Eyes,
Kayak,
Prince Buster,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.