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 Saudi Arabia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blake Baxter to the disco 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Skaos,
Livin' Joy,
Ken Boothe,
One Last Wish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rites of Spring,
Soft Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mission of Burma,
Niagra,
Television Personalities,
Technova,
Brick,
Oblivians,
Subhumans,
The Wake,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Womack,
Jesper Dahlback,
Crispy Ambulance,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Grass Roots,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lightning Bolt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Standells,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Buzzcocks,
Hot Snakes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aswad,
The Modern Lovers,
The Black Dice,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joe Smooth,
Bluetip,
Cluster,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gregory Isaacs,
DJ Style,
Archie Shepp,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Don Cherry,
Black Bananas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Model 500,
Cecil Taylor,
Sam Rivers,
U.S. Maple,
David Bowie,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Selecter,
Susan Cadogan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
UT,
Alton Ellis,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.