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 Montenegro and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin 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 The Happenings to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a snare 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 harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Subhumans,
Lindisfarne,
The Monks,
Hasil Adkins,
Amon Düül II,
LL Cool J,
Dead Boys,
Black Sheep,
Max Romeo,
Bad Manners,
Peter & Gordon,
Wire,
Andrew Hill,
Sandy B,
Dawn Penn,
Babytalk,
Jandek,
The Five Americans,
Neu!,
Minnie Riperton,
PIL,
Aural Exciters,
The Martian,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eric Dolphy,
Swans,
Magazine,
Lakeside,
Clear Light,
Roy Ayers,
Interpol,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Schoolly D,
Ohio Players,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Lynne,
Porter Ricks,
Crime,
Wasted Youth,
Brass Construction,
Visage,
The Mummies,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fugs,
Pierre Henry,
Steve Hackett,
Niagra,
Von Mondo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispian St. Peters,
New York Dolls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stereo Dub,
Drive Like Jehu,
Duran Duran,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.