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 Philippines and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 L. Decosne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cure,
Y Pants,
Royal Trux,
New Order,
Slave,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David McCallum,
Bobby Byrd,
Smog,
Blake Baxter,
Niagra,
Sarah Menescal,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Max Romeo,
Eden Ahbez,
The Detroit Cobras,
Moss Icon,
Whodini,
The Wake,
Wolf Eyes,
Tropical Tobacco,
CMW,
DNA,
Groovy Waters,
Mad Mike,
Rakim,
Funky Four + One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eli Mardock,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alphaville,
Kerri Chandler,
Jawbox,
The Count Five,
Cymande,
T. Rex,
The Beau Brummels,
Mars,
Don Cherry,
Wasted Youth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nick Fraelich,
John Foxx,
Cecil Taylor,
Charles Mingus,
Amon Düül II,
R.M.O.,
kango's stein massive,
Crash Course in Science,
Boredoms,
Skaos,
D'Angelo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Subhumans,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.