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 Turkey and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 Pop Group to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Amazonics,
Chris Corsano,
The Offenders,
Morten Harket,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lou Christie,
Chris & Cosey,
The Last Poets,
Howard Jones,
Outsiders,
Eddi Front,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
David McCallum,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Smoke,
H. Thieme,
The Raincoats,
the Sonics,
Hasil Adkins,
Bronski Beat,
Josef K,
MDC,
Public Enemy,
The Motions,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Lalann,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Standells,
Sister Nancy,
Shuggie Otis,
Urselle,
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dead Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultravox,
Newcleus,
Youth Brigade,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Camouflage,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Electric Prunes,
Sugar Minott,
Royal Trux,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Pop Group,
Sun City Girls,
Tim Buckley,
Smog,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Pretty Things,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Seeds,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.