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 Uganda and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 The Electric Prunes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
John Coltrane,
ABBA,
The New Christs,
Procol Harum,
T. Rex,
Chris Corsano,
Youth Brigade,
Franke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Görl,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Amazonics,
Bobby Byrd,
R.M.O.,
Ice-T,
The Selecter,
Mandrill,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Monochrome Set,
Shoche,
Rakim,
Arab on Radar,
Vladislav Delay,
Lyres,
the Normal,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
cv313,
Electric Prunes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roger Hodgson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wings,
Roxy Music,
Second Layer,
Eden Ahbez,
The Dave Clark Five,
Theoretical Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Kayak,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soulsonic Force,
Harry Pussy,
Babytalk,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Grass Roots,
DJ Style,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Howard Jones,
FM Einheit,
Gong,
Reagan Youth,
Radio Birdman,
Donny Hathaway,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sandy B,
the Slits,
Skarface,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.