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 Samoa and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Susan Cadogan to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tears for Fears,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
JFA,
Los Fastidios,
Mr. Review,
The Residents,
Japan,
Section 25,
Visage,
Talk Talk,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ossler,
Patti Smith,
Blossom Toes,
The Sound,
This Heat,
Pantaleimon,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Leaves,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Wings,
Bobby Byrd,
The Monks,
Todd Terry,
The Martian,
X-Ray Spex,
Babytalk,
Subhumans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Victims,
Sex Pistols,
Swell Maps,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stereo Dub,
Kaleidoscope,
Carl Craig,
Silicon Teens,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Connie Case,
The Busters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dave Gahan,
MC5,
Barbara Tucker,
The Detroit Cobras,
Archie Shepp,
June Days,
David Bowie,
Deadbeat,
Junior Murvin,
Youth Brigade,
Bush Tetras,
The J.B.'s,
Arthur Verocai,
Hot Snakes,
Bootsy Collins,
The Count Five,
Judy Mowatt,
Lindisfarne,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.