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 Jamaica and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Matthew Bourne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Y Pants,
Blossom Toes,
Brothers Johnson,
The Birthday Party,
The Offenders,
Cheater Slicks,
Yazoo,
Kerri Chandler,
June Days,
The Smoke,
Subhumans,
Minutemen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Godley & Creme,
Moss Icon,
The Red Krayola,
The Last Poets,
Kenny Larkin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Delon & Dalcan,
Magazine,
Marine Girls,
Lakeside,
The Seeds,
The Happenings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blake Baxter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joyce Sims,
Archie Shepp,
Outsiders,
Organ,
Moebius,
Aswad,
Sam Rivers,
Eurythmics,
Inner City,
The American Breed,
The Monks,
Jandek,
Youth Brigade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ornette Coleman,
The Vogues,
Wally Richardson,
Theoretical Girls,
Fear,
Pantaleimon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Echospace,
Pulsallama,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Massinfluence,
10cc,
The Tremeloes,
La Düsseldorf,
Barry Ungar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Grey Daturas,
X-101,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.