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 Kyrgyzstan and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Moss Icon to the punk 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Rekid,
Gang Green,
Bill Near,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Banda Bassotti,
The Music Machine,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
The Knickerbockers,
The Misunderstood,
Magazine,
The Young Rascals,
Television,
Moebius,
The Grass Roots,
Nas,
The Dirtbombs,
The Gap Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Names,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Techniques,
Wings,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Audionom,
Fatback Band,
Mars,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Association,
The United States of America,
The Kinks,
Ultra Naté,
ABC,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Buzzcocks,
Kas Product,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lightning Bolt,
Sex Pistols,
Cymande,
Q65,
Livin' Joy,
Crime,
Fear,
FM Einheit,
the Human League,
Gabor Szabo,
Bronski Beat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
Vainqueur,
Ken Boothe,
John Holt,
H. Thieme,
Intrusion,
Marmalade,
The Fugs,
The Velvet Underground,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.