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 Mali 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
D'Angelo,
Sarah Menescal,
The Slits,
JFA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Outsiders,
Agitation Free,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jacques Brel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pere Ubu,
Roy Ayers,
Negative Approach,
Deakin,
John Lydon,
Boredoms,
Crash Course in Science,
Leonard Cohen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pantytec,
Cymande,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dirtbombs,
Brick,
Moby Grape,
Amazonics,
X-101,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ossler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Model 500,
The Standells,
The Leaves,
Metal Thangz,
Michelle Simonal,
Chris Corsano,
Byron Stingily,
Main Source,
Reagan Youth,
In Retrospect,
Junior Murvin,
Joyce Sims,
Alton Ellis,
Bob Dylan,
Joy Division,
The Star Department,
Schoolly D,
The Cure,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tubeway Army,
Pierre Henry,
Max Romeo,
Scrapy,
Banda Bassotti,
Sixth Finger,
Glenn Branca,
H. Thieme,
Rod Modell,
The Dave Clark Five,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.