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 Poland and from London.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Donald Fagen 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 The Barracudas 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Susan Cadogan,
Hasil Adkins,
Darondo,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marmalade,
Ultravox,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sun Ra,
Graham Central Station,
The Grass Roots,
Circle Jerks,
Chris Corsano,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slick Rick,
The Neon Judgement,
Aural Exciters,
Stetsasonic,
Howard Jones,
Dual Sessions,
The Associates,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Harmonia,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Silicon Teens,
The Misunderstood,
Faraquet,
Groovy Waters,
Warsaw,
Yellowson,
Isaac Hayes,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeff Mills,
Grandmaster Flash,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brothers Johnson,
Wings,
Vainqueur,
David Bowie,
Don Cherry,
The Leaves,
Funky Four + One,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Morten Harket,
Jandek,
Sex Pistols,
Goldenarms,
Skaos,
a-ha,
The Selecter,
Agitation Free,
Arab on Radar,
Hardrive,
UT,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moby Grape,
Brand Nubian,
Desert Stars,
Masters at Work,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.