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 Saudi Arabia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the techno 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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Quantec,
Suicide,
The Cowsills,
The Techniques,
Pole,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeru the Damaja,
Groovy Waters,
Tres Demented,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lyres,
X-101,
LL Cool J,
The Moody Blues,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Osbourne,
Donny Hathaway,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jimmy McGriff,
L. Decosne,
Mission of Burma,
The Young Rascals,
Half Japanese,
X-Ray Spex,
Maurizio,
Dead Boys,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Starr,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barrington Levy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rufus Thomas,
The Smiths,
Grauzone,
Erasure,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Funkadelic,
Gong,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Walker Brothers,
Magazine,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Real Kids,
Joe Smooth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gun Club,
Sam Rivers,
Gichy Dan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Prince Buster,
10cc,
Trumans Water,
The Cure,
Boredoms,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stiv Bators,
The Fuzztones,
Jandek,
A Certain Ratio,
The Last Poets,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.