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 Albania and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Peter and Kerry,
Jeff Lynne,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
Scientists,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alice Coltrane,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Cale,
Yellowson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Franke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Christie,
Little Man,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dark Day,
T. Rex,
Todd Terry,
Tim Buckley,
Royal Trux,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Index,
The Alarm Clocks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aswad,
Hardrive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Morten Harket,
Whodini,
DJ Sneak,
Rufus Thomas,
The Misunderstood,
Severed Heads,
The Electric Prunes,
Drexciya,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
kango's stein massive,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Vainqueur,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Interpol,
Joyce Sims,
The Tremeloes,
Crooked Eye,
The Martian,
Gang Starr,
Roger Hodgson,
Echospace,
The Motions,
Gang Green,
Lower 48,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Carl Craig,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aloha Tigers,
Eden Ahbez,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.