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 Marshall Islands and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Country Teasers to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Letta Mbulu,
Babytalk,
Bobby Sherman,
Slick Rick,
Rosa Yemen,
ABC,
Curtis Mayfield,
Popol Vuh,
Public Enemy,
Scrapy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Panda Bear,
Little Man,
Tropical Tobacco,
Von Mondo,
Infiniti,
Pantaleimon,
Ludus,
Television Personalities,
The Move,
The Fuzztones,
World's Most,
Alison Limerick,
Deadbeat,
Roger Hodgson,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rufus Thomas,
Boredoms,
Johnny Clarke,
Joyce Sims,
Anthony Braxton,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lou Reed,
Talk Talk,
Scion,
Junior Murvin,
Matthew Halsall,
Eddi Front,
Brick,
Gang Green,
X-101,
Crispy Ambulance,
Surgeon,
Theoretical Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Leaves,
The Angels of Light,
Duran Duran,
Electric Prunes,
Danielle Patucci,
David McCallum,
The Gories,
Vladislav Delay,
Amon Düül II,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.