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 Guinea-Bissau and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
the Human League,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minutemen,
Ituana,
Swell Maps,
Sound Behaviour,
Hardrive,
Freddie Wadling,
Marvin Gaye,
Gong,
Glambeats Corp.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Erykah Badu,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Womack,
The Litter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
June Days,
Mandrill,
Laurel Aitken,
Jandek,
Infiniti,
Bill Wells,
Traffic Nightmare,
E-Dancer,
Sällskapet,
The Pretty Things,
Surgeon,
the Germs,
JFA,
Aural Exciters,
Grauzone,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Royal Trux,
The Happenings,
Marshall Jefferson,
Half Japanese,
Kerri Chandler,
The Offenders,
Black Sheep,
the Association,
The Tremeloes,
Essential Logic,
The Knickerbockers,
Flipper,
Metal Thangz,
Skriet,
Peter and Kerry,
Jacob Miller,
D'Angelo,
John Coltrane,
Amon Düül,
Von Mondo,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Magma,
Alice Coltrane,
Sandy B,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.