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 Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Skarface to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Brick,
The Red Krayola,
The Names,
The Cramps,
Cymande,
Erykah Badu,
Harry Pussy,
The Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joe Finger,
World's Most,
the Bar-Kays,
Little Man,
Junior Murvin,
Parry Music,
the Swans,
Model 500,
Scion,
Warsaw,
Albert Ayler,
Michelle Simonal,
La Düsseldorf,
DJ Style,
Con Funk Shun,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Clear Light,
Janne Schatter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Max Romeo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Stetsasonic,
U.S. Maple,
Barrington Levy,
The Residents,
Sarah Menescal,
the Germs,
Pole,
Matthew Halsall,
Desert Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Supertramp,
Magazine,
Isaac Hayes,
Wolf Eyes,
Moebius,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roger Hodgson,
This Heat,
Connie Case,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eric Dolphy,
Depeche Mode,
Moby Grape,
Aswad,
Stiv Bators,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tubeway Army,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.