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 Spokane.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Nirvana to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Steve Hackett,
Monks,
The Happenings,
kango's stein massive,
the Germs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tres Demented,
Brick,
Oneida,
Malaria!,
Terry Callier,
Erykah Badu,
Supertramp,
Wolf Eyes,
Heaven 17,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Martian,
The Mojo Men,
Niagra,
Rhythm & Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Lydon,
Ponytail,
Public Image Ltd.,
Funky Four + One,
Ossler,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Arthur Verocai,
X-101,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alphaville,
Shoche,
The Seeds,
The Beau Brummels,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June of 44,
ABC,
Minutemen,
Bob Dylan,
Sarah Menescal,
The Young Rascals,
Basic Channel,
Moss Icon,
Jawbox,
Ronnie Foster,
Donald Byrd,
The Modern Lovers,
Tom Boy,
Joey Negro,
Lungfish,
Lightning Bolt,
Iggy Pop,
Lucky Dragons,
Y Pants,
Circle Jerks,
Soft Machine,
Wasted Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Japan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rotary Connection,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.