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 Mauritania and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum 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 Lee Hazlewood to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
The Pretty Things,
Wire,
The Walker Brothers,
The Toasters,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Don Cherry,
Donald Byrd,
R.M.O.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Martian,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Camouflage,
E-Dancer,
The Dead C,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harmonia,
Popol Vuh,
Unrelated Segments,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pantaleimon,
Dawn Penn,
Sex Pistols,
Nick Fraelich,
a-ha,
Drexciya,
The Evens,
Grey Daturas,
The Fugs,
Kayak,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Monochrome Set,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Monolake,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Von Mondo,
Anakelly,
Los Fastidios,
Lightning Bolt,
Skarface,
Tropical Tobacco,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Hoover,
OOIOO,
Panda Bear,
KRS-One,
Saccharine Trust,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dark Day,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Seeds,
Basic Channel,
Mo-Dettes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Easy Going,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.