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 Sudan and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 8 Eyed Spy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
The Slits,
Sound Behaviour,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bad Manners,
Lee Hazlewood,
Electric Prunes,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols,
Ultra Naté,
Scrapy,
the Normal,
The Smoke,
Zero Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
H. Thieme,
Panda Bear,
Radiopuhelimet,
Anakelly,
Nas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marine Girls,
Little Man,
Babytalk,
Letta Mbulu,
Slave,
Organ,
Eric B and Rakim,
AZ,
T.S.O.L.,
Eden Ahbez,
John Cale,
Bill Near,
The Offenders,
Arab on Radar,
Saccharine Trust,
Jeff Mills,
Country Teasers,
Niagra,
Aaron Thompson,
Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Easy Going,
Blancmange,
The Gap Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
The Toasters,
Skarface,
Inner City,
The Human League,
The Zeros,
Bronski Beat,
Pere Ubu,
Tomorrow,
OOIOO,
Flamin' Groovies,
Magazine,
Soft Machine,
Chrome,
Gil Scott Heron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.