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 Djibouti and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Raincoats to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Brass Construction,
Franke,
Whodini,
D'Angelo,
Alphaville,
The Five Americans,
Eric Copeland,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nik Kershaw,
Motorama,
cv313,
Negative Approach,
Sixth Finger,
World's Most,
The Residents,
Charles Mingus,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yellowson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nico,
Quadrant,
Royal Trux,
Anakelly,
The Slackers,
Pussy Galore,
La Düsseldorf,
Judy Mowatt,
The Vogues,
Trumans Water,
Organ,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Can,
Ultra Naté,
Bill Near,
The Pretty Things,
MC5,
The Gap Band,
Aural Exciters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Dead C,
Sonic Youth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Second Layer,
Monolake,
the Soft Cell,
Cheater Slicks,
Derrick Morgan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sex Pistols,
James White and The Blacks,
The Kinks,
Cymande,
the Bar-Kays,
Crooked Eye,
Sällskapet,
Minnie Riperton,
The Tremeloes,
The Busters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.