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 Fiji and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fuzztones to the electroclash 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roger Hodgson,
The Real Kids,
The Cowsills,
Altered Images,
Susan Cadogan,
Unrelated Segments,
Althea and Donna,
Second Layer,
The Smiths,
Neil Young,
Arab on Radar,
Malaria!,
Ituana,
Mantronix,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Sonics,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Normal,
Piero Umiliani,
Lungfish,
Moss Icon,
Dennis Brown,
Eve St. Jones,
Flash Fearless,
Tubeway Army,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grauzone,
Groovy Waters,
Charles Mingus,
Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-Ray Spex,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magma,
Gang Green,
K-Klass,
The Moody Blues,
Peter and Kerry,
Mission of Burma,
The J.B.'s,
48th St. Collective,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
kango's stein massive,
The Fugs,
Rapeman,
The Young Rascals,
Radio Birdman,
Skaos,
June of 44,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Theoretical Girls,
Carl Craig,
The Associates,
Neu!,
Whodini,
The Moleskins,
Quadrant,
Gang of Four,
The Searchers,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.