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 Kenya and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Smoke to the grime 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Sonic Youth,
Unrelated Segments,
La Düsseldorf,
The Zeros,
Gabor Szabo,
Eden Ahbez,
Visage,
Al Stewart,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Max Romeo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The J.B.'s,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Names,
Curtis Mayfield,
Popol Vuh,
Gang of Four,
Roxette,
Minutemen,
Lakeside,
The Gap Band,
Deakin,
Subhumans,
Archie Shepp,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ossler,
Ponytail,
The Moleskins,
Trumans Water,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
D'Angelo,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Red Krayola,
The Neon Judgement,
Eric Dolphy,
Quadrant,
Panda Bear,
Pere Ubu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scratch Acid,
The New Christs,
Nirvana,
Erykah Badu,
Bad Manners,
The Dirtbombs,
Jacob Miller,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Five Americans,
Procol Harum,
The Cowsills,
F. McDonald,
Kool Moe Dee,
L. Decosne,
The Music Machine,
Man Parrish,
Yellowson,
Crash Course in Science,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.