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 Bahamas and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fluxion to the rock 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic 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?
Banda Bassotti,
Dual Sessions,
Fatback Band,
Grey Daturas,
Crime,
Soul Sonic Force,
The American Breed,
Aswad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Almond,
The Barracudas,
Sister Nancy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
D'Angelo,
kango's stein massive,
Grandmaster Flash,
X-Ray Spex,
One Last Wish,
Erasure,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angry Samoans,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amazonics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Smiths,
Sound Behaviour,
These Immortal Souls,
Organ,
Henry Cow,
Rites of Spring,
Harry Pussy,
Barbara Tucker,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scan 7,
The Mojo Men,
In Retrospect,
Lee Hazlewood,
Slick Rick,
Hardrive,
Joe Finger,
Camouflage,
Kool Moe Dee,
Flipper,
Bill Near,
Sex Pistols,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Litter,
The Neon Judgement,
Judy Mowatt,
Grauzone,
Panda Bear,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Young Marble Giants,
Lalann,
Accadde A,
The Cowsills,
The Pretty Things,
Funkadelic,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.