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 Belize and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 One Last Wish to the crunk 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba 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 arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Swans,
Jacob Miller,
Black Pus,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roxette,
Das Ding,
Hoover,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fortunes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barrington Levy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
the Slits,
Alice Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
Marc Almond,
Black Flag,
the Swans,
The Trojans,
the Human League,
Avey Tare,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mr. Review,
Altered Images,
Toni Rubio,
Jeff Lynne,
Dead Boys,
The Last Poets,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Section 25,
Youth Brigade,
Kenny Larkin,
Television,
Steve Hackett,
Prince Buster,
The Fall,
Monolake,
Quantec,
Bobby Byrd,
Minor Threat,
Thee Headcoats,
The Moleskins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jawbox,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Radio Birdman,
Funkadelic,
Soul II Soul,
MC5,
Donald Byrd,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.