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 Switzerland and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Radio Birdman to the dance 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeru the Damaja,
OOIOO,
Oblivians,
Harmonia,
The Leaves,
Bill Near,
The Skatalites,
the Association,
Rekid,
Surgeon,
Pylon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Busters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Curtis Mayfield,
Janne Schatter,
Nick Fraelich,
Grandmaster Flash,
F. McDonald,
Sixth Finger,
Josef K,
Isaac Hayes,
The Names,
Alice Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Womack,
Blossom Toes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chrome,
Livin' Joy,
Gong,
Swell Maps,
the Sonics,
Accadde A,
John Lydon,
Audionom,
Idris Muhammad,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amazonics,
Bobby Byrd,
The Alarm Clocks,
The American Breed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fall,
These Immortal Souls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sexual Harrassment,
Erasure,
Sun Ra,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Slits,
Lalann,
The Fire Engines,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.