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 East Timor and from Portland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the electroclash 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Matthew Bourne,
The Searchers,
Boredoms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Music Machine,
Ponytail,
Crash Course in Science,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Hill,
John Coltrane,
Fluxion,
The Toasters,
Blossom Toes,
Sparks,
Eddi Front,
Jacques Brel,
OOIOO,
China Crisis,
Babytalk,
Derrick May,
Quadrant,
Laurel Aitken,
Nik Kershaw,
Johnny Clarke,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Surgeon,
Nas,
Hashim,
Mr. Review,
Eric B and Rakim,
Newcleus,
Swans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Offenders,
The Selecter,
Cheater Slicks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
Con Funk Shun,
Minnie Riperton,
Alice Coltrane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Five Americans,
Marmalade,
Marcia Griffiths,
Easy Going,
Skriet,
Dead Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Harry Pussy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
U.S. Maple,
Roy Ayers,
Chris Corsano,
Radio Birdman,
Supertramp,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Pretty Things,
Can,
Lakeside,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.