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 Russia and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Banda Bassotti to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
the Slits,
The Neon Judgement,
The Human League,
K-Klass,
Spoonie Gee,
Faust,
Cameo,
Eurythmics,
The Cramps,
The J.B.'s,
Lightning Bolt,
The Divine Comedy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Danielle Patucci,
The Misunderstood,
Lyres,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yaz,
Marcia Griffiths,
Unwound,
Flipper,
Los Fastidios,
Bad Manners,
Bob Dylan,
FM Einheit,
The Pretty Things,
U.S. Maple,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fall,
Radio Birdman,
Cecil Taylor,
Clear Light,
The Real Kids,
Slick Rick,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wally Richardson,
Cluster,
Ultravox,
A Flock of Seagulls,
LL Cool J,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
James White and The Blacks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Glenn Branca,
The Gun Club,
Minutemen,
Silicon Teens,
the Association,
Josef K,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bluetip,
Ralphi Rosario,
Malaria!,
The New Christs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Piero Umiliani,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tears for Fears,
David Bowie,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.