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 Venezuela and from Mumbai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Pulsallama to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tommy Roe,
Charles Mingus,
Grauzone,
Steve Hackett,
Yaz,
The Searchers,
Oblivians,
One Last Wish,
Dawn Penn,
Popol Vuh,
The Skatalites,
the Sonics,
Man Parrish,
Kurtis Blow,
Heaven 17,
The Seeds,
Sun City Girls,
Aural Exciters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Suicide,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Last Poets,
Barbara Tucker,
Cluster,
Pylon,
Motorama,
Rapeman,
Trumans Water,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joyce Sims,
Y Pants,
The Raincoats,
Angry Samoans,
Can,
Agitation Free,
The Young Rascals,
Soul Sonic Force,
Matthew Bourne,
Circle Jerks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Slits,
Shoche,
Porter Ricks,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Byron Stingily,
Ultra Naté,
Piero Umiliani,
Andrew Hill,
Wasted Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.