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 Luxembourg and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Robert Palmer 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the rock 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Scientists,
Black Moon,
Sex Pistols,
The Trojans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Unwound,
June Days,
Robert Wyatt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Cale,
The Mummies,
The Monks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Morten Harket,
Metal Thangz,
Symarip,
Camouflage,
LL Cool J,
The Tremeloes,
Nils Olav,
Simply Red,
Reagan Youth,
Eddi Front,
Bob Dylan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Bar-Kays,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Green,
The Buckinghams,
The Music Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pierre Henry,
Q and Not U,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minny Pops,
Desert Stars,
X-101,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agitation Free,
Rufus Thomas,
T. Rex,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Quadrant,
Skriet,
Eli Mardock,
Jimmy McGriff,
Maurizio,
Janne Schatter,
Iggy Pop,
Cluster,
The Invisible,
The J.B.'s,
Albert Ayler,
A Certain Ratio,
Inner City,
Boz Scaggs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.