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 Lebanon and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 David Bowie 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 The Evens to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Pole,
The Gladiators,
Slave,
Henry Cow,
The Last Poets,
the Germs,
K-Klass,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Five Americans,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Lydon,
Loose Ends,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Average White Band,
Popol Vuh,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Boredoms,
Nico,
Malaria!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Youth Brigade,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
R.M.O.,
Eric Copeland,
Lightning Bolt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Technova,
The Blues Magoos,
Inner City,
Quadrant,
Altered Images,
The Move,
Lungfish,
the Sonics,
Tommy Roe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Saccharine Trust,
Faraquet,
Nik Kershaw,
The Saints,
Black Moon,
Byron Stingily,
The Sonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Interpol,
Barry Ungar,
Reagan Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
The Human League,
The Star Department,
Eve St. Jones,
Eli Mardock,
Radiopuhelimet,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.