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 Tonga and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gang Gang Dance to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Davy DMX,
Panda Bear,
The Alarm Clocks,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
K-Klass,
Can,
Boz Scaggs,
Erasure,
Godley & Creme,
Jesper Dahlback,
Con Funk Shun,
X-101,
Gichy Dan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nirvana,
X-Ray Spex,
Mr. Review,
Ornette Coleman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Delta 5,
Siglo XX,
John Foxx,
Agitation Free,
Pharoah Sanders,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Loose Ends,
Lower 48,
Max Romeo,
The Real Kids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Shoche,
Albert Ayler,
F. McDonald,
The Standells,
The Seeds,
The New Christs,
Idris Muhammad,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Chrome,
Scientists,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moby Grape,
Dorothy Ashby,
Byron Stingily,
Accadde A,
Vainqueur,
Lalann,
Moss Icon,
Boredoms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Durutti Column,
The Buckinghams,
Royal Trux,
Mars,
Marc Almond,
The Move,
Joey Negro,
Das Ding,
Clear Light,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.