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 Morocco and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the jazz 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Roxy Music,
Jacob Miller,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ten City,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric Dolphy,
Idris Muhammad,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joy Division,
Funky Four + One,
The Gories,
Parry Music,
Slave,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crime,
Mr. Review,
Tears for Fears,
Schoolly D,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cramps,
Henry Cow,
Danielle Patucci,
MDC,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Banda Bassotti,
F. McDonald,
Roxette,
Supertramp,
A Certain Ratio,
Blossom Toes,
Siglo XX,
KRS-One,
Los Fastidios,
Peter and Kerry,
Wasted Youth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
8 Eyed Spy,
Guru Guru,
Thee Headcoats,
Harry Pussy,
Oblivians,
The Busters,
Blancmange,
Infiniti,
Vainqueur,
The Pop Group,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Amazonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Residents,
EPMD,
Public Image Ltd.,
Quadrant,
World's Most,
The Wake,
Dawn Penn,
Royal Trux,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bauhaus,
Minnie Riperton,
Darondo,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.