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 Ukraine and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Neil Young to the crunk 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Byrd,
The United States of America,
Max Romeo,
Ponytail,
The Golliwogs,
The American Breed,
Masters at Work,
the Fania All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Misunderstood,
Procol Harum,
New Age Steppers,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Searchers,
Nas,
The Seeds,
Peter & Gordon,
Thee Headcoats,
Can,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bronski Beat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Slave,
The Skatalites,
Amon Düül,
Pierre Henry,
Gichy Dan,
Andrew Hill,
Faust,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Newcleus,
EPMD,
Wasted Youth,
The Slackers,
the Germs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cameo,
Wings,
Delta 5,
Harmonia,
The Real Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Remains,
Thompson Twins,
Yusef Lateef,
Public Image Ltd.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stiv Bators,
Kayak,
Tropical Tobacco,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Vogues,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Excepter,
Japan,
Panda Bear,
Byron Stingily,
Ossler,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.