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 Greece and from Edmonton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Ralphi Rosario to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
a-ha,
Inner City,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cheater Slicks,
Scott Walker,
The Gladiators,
Sandy B,
Tim Buckley,
The Trojans,
Bang On A Can,
Urselle,
The Gun Club,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
David McCallum,
Aloha Tigers,
Darondo,
Underground Resistance,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Techniques,
Pere Ubu,
Masters at Work,
World's Most,
Stiv Bators,
Johnny Osbourne,
Junior Murvin,
Minor Threat,
Barry Ungar,
The Monochrome Set,
The Evens,
The Smoke,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rufus Thomas,
The Golliwogs,
Mars,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pulsallama,
John Lydon,
The Walker Brothers,
Girls At Our Best!,
X-102,
The Monks,
Tubeway Army,
Barbara Tucker,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
DJ Sneak,
Livin' Joy,
Rotary Connection,
June of 44,
Harpers Bizarre,
Intrusion,
Popol Vuh,
The Fuzztones,
The Remains,
Peter and Kerry,
Minutemen,
The Blues Magoos,
Nas,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.