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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Jacques Brel to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Sam Rivers,
the Association,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Selecter,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott Heron,
Funkadelic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Glambeats Corp.,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jawbox,
Kurtis Blow,
Basic Channel,
The Five Americans,
Erasure,
Eric B and Rakim,
Judy Mowatt,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Radiopuhelimet,
Massinfluence,
Faraquet,
Sun City Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Robert Görl,
Das Ding,
James White and The Blacks,
Make Up,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Hood,
Darondo,
CMW,
Essential Logic,
Sex Pistols,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doors,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang On A Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Sonics,
T. Rex,
Gang Green,
Marine Girls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mandrill,
The Grass Roots,
Don Cherry,
48th St. Collective,
E-Dancer,
EPMD,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Depeche Mode,
The Slits,
Bronski Beat,
Aural Exciters,
Average White Band,
The Cure,
The Moleskins,
The Music Machine,
The Beau Brummels,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.