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 Libya and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the punk 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Music Machine,
Darondo,
Scratch Acid,
Rakim,
Skarface,
Clear Light,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lyres,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Faraquet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeff Mills,
Magazine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Star Department,
Monolake,
FM Einheit,
The Cowsills,
Danielle Patucci,
Country Teasers,
Liliput,
The Evens,
Glenn Branca,
Slick Rick,
Charles Mingus,
Hardrive,
Mo-Dettes,
Shuggie Otis,
Lalann,
The Real Kids,
Nils Olav,
Fluxion,
Bush Tetras,
Black Pus,
Goldenarms,
The Motions,
U.S. Maple,
Barrington Levy,
These Immortal Souls,
Second Layer,
Ultimate Spinach,
Todd Terry,
Letta Mbulu,
The Beau Brummels,
Nirvana,
Ice-T,
Soul Sonic Force,
Hoover,
Inner City,
Robert Hood,
Neil Young,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
E-Dancer,
Sugar Minott,
Wolf Eyes,
Todd Rundgren,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.