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 Qatar and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Eric B and Rakim to the electroclash 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Yaz,
Tres Demented,
Alphaville,
Hot Snakes,
Arthur Verocai,
The Red Krayola,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Sherman,
Nick Fraelich,
Depeche Mode,
Groovy Waters,
Blossom Toes,
Minnie Riperton,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minor Threat,
The Cramps,
Jandek,
The Stooges,
The Dead C,
Minutemen,
Henry Cow,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tom Boy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sugar Minott,
Wasted Youth,
Eddi Front,
Altered Images,
Bang On A Can,
Skriet,
Scrapy,
The Wake,
The Five Americans,
Loose Ends,
Malaria!,
Minny Pops,
The Smiths,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kerri Chandler,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Sheep,
The Vogues,
Boz Scaggs,
Joey Negro,
Crash Course in Science,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dark Day,
Bobby Womack,
Symarip,
Gerry Rafferty,
Audionom,
Nirvana,
T.S.O.L.,
The Saints,
Make Up,
David Axelrod,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.