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 Zambia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rock 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cluster,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Glenn Branca,
Eddi Front,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Monks,
Isaac Hayes,
Organ,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mr. Review,
Prince Buster,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Invisible,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Smooth,
Absolute Body Control,
Pierre Henry,
Swell Maps,
Danielle Patucci,
New Age Steppers,
Con Funk Shun,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Pop Group,
Ken Boothe,
John Foxx,
Drexciya,
The Star Department,
Deadbeat,
Tres Demented,
Pantytec,
Bobby Womack,
Faraquet,
Janne Schatter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crash Course in Science,
Easy Going,
Reagan Youth,
Byron Stingily,
Oblivians,
Marine Girls,
X-101,
Spoonie Gee,
Jacob Miller,
Metal Thangz,
Clear Light,
Desert Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Chris Corsano,
ABC,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roxy Music,
Scion,
Moby Grape,
OOIOO,
Godley & Creme,
X-Ray Spex,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.