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 Micronesia and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Glambeats Corp.,
Warren Ellis,
Harmonia,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rosa Yemen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fugs,
The Leaves,
The Monochrome Set,
The Searchers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Pop Group,
The Index,
Infiniti,
Lindisfarne,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultimate Spinach,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Chris Corsano,
Crooked Eye,
The Standells,
Bauhaus,
Suburban Knight,
The Gap Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Scratch Acid,
The Birthday Party,
Wings,
The Grass Roots,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Visage,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Happenings,
Heaven 17,
Lakeside,
Pantytec,
Boredoms,
Ten City,
These Immortal Souls,
Mantronix,
Das Ding,
Barry Ungar,
Saccharine Trust,
One Last Wish,
Goldenarms,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Pretty Things,
Mark Hollis,
MC5,
Public Enemy,
Flipper,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Byrd,
Barrington Levy,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bill Wells,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.