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 Lesotho and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 guitar 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the electroclash 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Pierre Henry,
Dead Boys,
Agitation Free,
Ultravox,
Sex Pistols,
Inner City,
Yellowson,
Wings,
Electric Prunes,
Fat Boys,
Q65,
Skaos,
The Remains,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pulsallama,
FM Einheit,
Procol Harum,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Slave,
Magazine,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Birthday Party,
Das Ding,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Barclay James Harvest,
Camouflage,
K-Klass,
The Human League,
The Happenings,
Reuben Wilson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Visage,
Andrew Hill,
the Bar-Kays,
Alphaville,
D'Angelo,
Boz Scaggs,
The Wake,
Lou Reed,
Nik Kershaw,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fela Kuti,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scientists,
The Buckinghams,
Pantaleimon,
Neil Young,
Niagra,
Buzzcocks,
The Stooges,
Sarah Menescal,
Ice-T,
The Slits,
Brass Construction,
Mars,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Minutemen,
Maleditus Sound,
Funkadelic,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.