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 Cuba and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Bananas to the grunge 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Crooked Eye,
H. Thieme,
DJ Sneak,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gabor Szabo,
The Neon Judgement,
China Crisis,
Fugazi,
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Real Kids,
Country Joe & The Fish,
B.T. Express,
The Associates,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Fania All-Stars,
kango's stein massive,
Fear,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ituana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Section 25,
Metal Thangz,
John Foxx,
Royal Trux,
the Normal,
Bill Near,
Outsiders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultra Naté,
Whodini,
Kurtis Blow,
Smog,
The Names,
Aural Exciters,
The Dirtbombs,
The Kinks,
Johnny Clarke,
Audionom,
Blake Baxter,
The Fugs,
Main Source,
Yellowson,
The Smoke,
Surgeon,
Isaac Hayes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bluetip,
The Fuzztones,
Marine Girls,
The Residents,
The Five Americans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Arthur Verocai,
Duran Duran,
Grauzone,
Yazoo,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.