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 South Africa and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Niagra,
Aural Exciters,
David Bowie,
Barrington Levy,
X-101,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Pus,
JFA,
Kayak,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lakeside,
Ken Boothe,
PIL,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soft Machine,
Tres Demented,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Andrew Hill,
Wolf Eyes,
Procol Harum,
Albert Ayler,
Aswad,
Thompson Twins,
Desert Stars,
Absolute Body Control,
Joy Division,
Silicon Teens,
Outsiders,
Mr. Review,
Al Stewart,
U.S. Maple,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gun Club,
Schoolly D,
Negative Approach,
Scientists,
The Golliwogs,
The Misunderstood,
Visage,
Bobby Womack,
Au Pairs,
June of 44,
Unrelated Segments,
Harry Pussy,
The Music Machine,
Von Mondo,
kango's stein massive,
Maurizio,
Alphaville,
Terry Callier,
Susan Cadogan,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang Starr,
the Slits,
The Walker Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.