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 Sri Lanka and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Skaos to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Dark Day,
Severed Heads,
MDC,
Junior Murvin,
Kas Product,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dead C,
Tim Buckley,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Moon,
Carl Craig,
Babytalk,
Robert Wyatt,
the Soft Cell,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gun Club,
Icehouse,
Eric Dolphy,
The Offenders,
Glambeats Corp.,
Blancmange,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Davy DMX,
Mandrill,
The Zeros,
Jerry's Kids,
Althea and Donna,
Subhumans,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gap Band,
Brick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joensuu 1685,
Alison Limerick,
Funky Four + One,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alphaville,
B.T. Express,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Chrome,
The Names,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Hood,
Laurel Aitken,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Toasters,
Moss Icon,
Nico,
Warsaw,
Joy Division,
Don Cherry,
The Mummies,
Second Layer,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
Charles Mingus,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.