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 Taiwan 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Spoonie Gee to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Gladiators,
Hardrive,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Byrd,
Nirvana,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Al Stewart,
The Invisible,
The Remains,
Pussy Galore,
The Dirtbombs,
Matthew Halsall,
Wolf Eyes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fortunes,
Aaron Thompson,
Sandy B,
Soul II Soul,
Heaven 17,
Ten City,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Associates,
Tres Demented,
KRS-One,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sexual Harrassment,
June Days,
Bluetip,
Rakim,
Crooked Eye,
Dual Sessions,
Alphaville,
Yaz,
The Golliwogs,
Carl Craig,
The Saints,
The Barracudas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Stetsasonic,
Dark Day,
The Neon Judgement,
Oblivians,
Sparks,
the Bar-Kays,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Con Funk Shun,
The Busters,
X-102,
The Motions,
Don Cherry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Infiniti,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.