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 Liberia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Average White Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Sonics,
Johnny Osbourne,
cv313,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Stiv Bators,
Simply Red,
Patti Smith,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soft Cell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Shoche,
Rites of Spring,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül II,
Darondo,
Quadrant,
Intrusion,
Sandy B,
The Busters,
Bobby Sherman,
The Blackbyrds,
Newcleus,
Amon Düül,
Malaria!,
The Mummies,
Max Romeo,
Marvin Gaye,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Swans,
Visage,
Silicon Teens,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Animal Collective,
Pussy Galore,
Public Enemy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hashim,
Absolute Body Control,
John Lydon,
Bush Tetras,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yaz,
Joensuu 1685,
Flamin' Groovies,
Suburban Knight,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cameo,
June Days,
Pierre Henry,
U.S. Maple,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Donald Byrd,
The Offenders,
Brothers Johnson,
Metal Thangz,
Rapeman,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.