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 Cape Verde and from Delhi.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 X-102 to the grime 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
the Sonics,
Anakelly,
The Count Five,
Roy Ayers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ornette Coleman,
Erasure,
Suicide,
Sun City Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
John Lydon,
kango's stein massive,
Cybotron,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Doors,
Barrington Levy,
Mark Hollis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Barracudas,
R.M.O.,
Chris Corsano,
Masters at Work,
Trumans Water,
Duran Duran,
The Golliwogs,
The Move,
Radio Birdman,
The Stooges,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scratch Acid,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Görl,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crash Course in Science,
Motorama,
Harmonia,
Stiv Bators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minutemen,
Bill Wells,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Vogues,
Barclay James Harvest,
PIL,
Index,
Vladislav Delay,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Procol Harum,
Boredoms,
Marvin Gaye,
Rapeman,
Dead Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Human League,
Scion,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.