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 Russia and from Houston.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 The Slits to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
The Residents,
Neil Young,
China Crisis,
Jacob Miller,
Lungfish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Essential Logic,
New Age Steppers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gladiators,
Cecil Taylor,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Moon,
Radiohead,
T.S.O.L.,
Royal Trux,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang of Four,
UT,
Michelle Simonal,
Carl Craig,
Absolute Body Control,
The J.B.'s,
Motorama,
Max Romeo,
Lou Reed,
The Move,
Easy Going,
Laurel Aitken,
The Kinks,
Main Source,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ronan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Clear Light,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Busters,
The Remains,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Pretty Things,
New Order,
Ken Boothe,
The Blues Magoos,
Blake Baxter,
Mad Mike,
Scan 7,
Hardrive,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fall,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Monks,
Barrington Levy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Loose Ends,
The Velvet Underground,
David Axelrod,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.