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 Liberia and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 the Human League to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soft Cell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crash Course in Science,
Symarip,
Mary Jane Girls,
Monks,
Mandrill,
Mad Mike,
Junior Murvin,
June Days,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Porter Ricks,
Deadbeat,
Blancmange,
Silicon Teens,
Newcleus,
Bootsy Collins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
AZ,
The Victims,
The Skatalites,
The Pretty Things,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Au Pairs,
Gastr Del Sol,
K-Klass,
Fugazi,
Trumans Water,
Bush Tetras,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Severed Heads,
Pulsallama,
Aloha Tigers,
Hardrive,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joy Division,
Mo-Dettes,
Ponytail,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joe Smooth,
Das Ding,
FM Einheit,
Camouflage,
Bang On A Can,
Accadde A,
Bauhaus,
The Music Machine,
Pagans,
Sun Ra,
Animal Collective,
Sällskapet,
DJ Sneak,
Kurtis Blow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Infiniti,
Basic Channel,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Reed,
Model 500,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.