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 South Sudan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 Lou Christie to the funk 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gastr Del Sol,
Darondo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skarface,
The Birthday Party,
Roger Hodgson,
Dead Boys,
The Seeds,
Hasil Adkins,
Kas Product,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare,
Barrington Levy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kerri Chandler,
Mission of Burma,
Bob Dylan,
Duran Duran,
Fad Gadget,
The Kinks,
Joensuu 1685,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nation of Ulysses,
Delta 5,
Gang Starr,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stiv Bators,
Man Eating Sloth,
Todd Terry,
John Coltrane,
Smog,
Black Pus,
Eric Dolphy,
Spoonie Gee,
K-Klass,
Hot Snakes,
Subhumans,
Jeff Lynne,
Zero Boys,
Reuben Wilson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Panda Bear,
The Flesh Eaters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Trumans Water,
Das Ding,
Chrome,
Jerry's Kids,
Procol Harum,
The Last Poets,
Icehouse,
Pylon,
The Cowsills,
Pulsallama,
The Move,
June of 44,
Kool Moe Dee,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Womack,
Silicon Teens,
Iggy Pop,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.