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 Serbia and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Severed Heads to the dance 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mission of Burma,
Monolake,
Guru Guru,
The American Breed,
DJ Style,
Chrome,
Grey Daturas,
Ituana,
Au Pairs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Heaven 17,
Sister Nancy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lyres,
Stereo Dub,
The Beau Brummels,
Yaz,
John Holt,
The Smoke,
Q and Not U,
Piero Umiliani,
Alton Ellis,
Bang On A Can,
The Monochrome Set,
Eve St. Jones,
Idris Muhammad,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Wyatt,
Alphaville,
The Real Kids,
Animal Collective,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soft Machine,
The Divine Comedy,
Susan Cadogan,
Reagan Youth,
Agitation Free,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Axelrod,
Rakim,
David McCallum,
Bush Tetras,
Aural Exciters,
Moby Grape,
Spoonie Gee,
Groovy Waters,
Cecil Taylor,
Model 500,
Spandau Ballet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Neil Young,
Gabor Szabo,
Anthony Braxton,
Josef K,
Cybotron,
The Leaves,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Carl Craig,
Arab on Radar,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.