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 Morocco and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Smoke to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Minutemen,
Television,
Avey Tare,
Duran Duran,
Sugar Minott,
The Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Pop Group,
The Dead C,
Livin' Joy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ken Boothe,
ABC,
Johnny Clarke,
The Remains,
Icehouse,
Pierre Henry,
The Tremeloes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Quantec,
Barry Ungar,
Cluster,
Marshall Jefferson,
Los Fastidios,
Essential Logic,
Throbbing Gristle,
a-ha,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Black Dice,
The Red Krayola,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Babytalk,
The Young Rascals,
Robert Hood,
Peter and Kerry,
Peter & Gordon,
Desert Stars,
the Normal,
Agent Orange,
Connie Case,
The Walker Brothers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Animal Collective,
Visage,
Minor Threat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mars,
Barrington Levy,
Hoover,
The Cowsills,
Donald Byrd,
Hardrive,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.