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 Nicaragua and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Tremeloes to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
a-ha,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bill Wells,
Urselle,
Don Cherry,
X-101,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Ultra Naté,
Frankie Knuckles,
Charles Mingus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Judy Mowatt,
Scan 7,
D'Angelo,
Groovy Waters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dual Sessions,
The Fortunes,
Freddie Wadling,
Average White Band,
Suburban Knight,
David Axelrod,
The Standells,
Lou Christie,
Erasure,
Sun Ra,
Wings,
Barrington Levy,
Ornette Coleman,
KRS-One,
Jerry's Kids,
The Slits,
Prince Buster,
Lakeside,
These Immortal Souls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joe Smooth,
Dennis Brown,
Model 500,
Stereo Dub,
The Angels of Light,
Silicon Teens,
The Names,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Andrew Hill,
Symarip,
Index,
Circle Jerks,
Malaria!,
OOIOO,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Vogues,
Con Funk Shun,
June Days,
The Invisible,
Liliput,
CMW,
David McCallum,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.