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 Tajikistan and from Lille.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 theremin 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 Detroit Cobras to the rap 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Half Japanese,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Slits,
Pulsallama,
DJ Sneak,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Sheep,
Bob Dylan,
June of 44,
Cameo,
Henry Cow,
Altered Images,
It's A Beautiful Day,
D'Angelo,
Lower 48,
Wolf Eyes,
Franke,
Aswad,
The Five Americans,
Bush Tetras,
Lightning Bolt,
Tommy Roe,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Offenders,
Au Pairs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Standells,
Fugazi,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiohead,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gap Band,
Hot Snakes,
Arcadia,
Vainqueur,
Morten Harket,
The Sonics,
X-101,
The J.B.'s,
Gong,
Bad Manners,
Deadbeat,
Q and Not U,
Sonny Sharrock,
B.T. Express,
Todd Rundgren,
The Tremeloes,
Rufus Thomas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ornette Coleman,
Popol Vuh,
the Germs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mr. Review,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Oneida,
Robert Görl,
Letta Mbulu,
The Real Kids,
The Divine Comedy,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.