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 Tonga and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 Rufus Thomas to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The Last Poets,
Lalann,
T.S.O.L.,
Wally Richardson,
The Smoke,
Arab on Radar,
The Zeros,
Deepchord,
Agitation Free,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
K-Klass,
DNA,
Con Funk Shun,
June Days,
The Neon Judgement,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Birthday Party,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
Graham Central Station,
the Association,
Ronnie Foster,
Technova,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bauhaus,
Wasted Youth,
Cluster,
Eve St. Jones,
Depeche Mode,
John Coltrane,
Blancmange,
the Human League,
Gichy Dan,
Pussy Galore,
Amon Düül II,
Joyce Sims,
Zapp,
The Standells,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Searchers,
Agent Orange,
Essential Logic,
Public Enemy,
The Golliwogs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Matthew Halsall,
Y Pants,
UT,
Surgeon,
The Monochrome Set,
Desert Stars,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brand Nubian,
Outsiders,
Bobby Sherman,
Panda Bear,
The Mummies,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.