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 Togo and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro 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 Sonic Youth to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
The Count Five,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Grass Roots,
The Vogues,
Circle Jerks,
The Smoke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
AZ,
Swans,
Mission of Burma,
The Selecter,
Electric Prunes,
Stereo Dub,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Howard Jones,
Joyce Sims,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Leaves,
Derrick Morgan,
Judy Mowatt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Fania All-Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Heaven 17,
Quadrant,
the Germs,
Bad Manners,
China Crisis,
D'Angelo,
Tommy Roe,
EPMD,
Sarah Menescal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Albert Ayler,
Lightning Bolt,
Blossom Toes,
Vainqueur,
a-ha,
Minny Pops,
Bronski Beat,
Gong,
Aloha Tigers,
Chrome,
Organ,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Max Romeo,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Schoolly D,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harry Pussy,
Smog,
The Fire Engines,
Brick,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Pus,
Graham Central Station,
Camouflage,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.