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 Vanuatu and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Hardrive,
The Mojo Men,
Niagra,
The Mummies,
Junior Murvin,
Barbara Tucker,
Thee Headcoats,
Con Funk Shun,
This Heat,
Iggy Pop,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Offenders,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Womack,
Animal Collective,
Severed Heads,
Brand Nubian,
R.M.O.,
The Durutti Column,
Liliput,
Malaria!,
Hashim,
Rapeman,
E-Dancer,
The Detroit Cobras,
Los Fastidios,
Fat Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
The American Breed,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brick,
Audionom,
Cheater Slicks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Outsiders,
Eric B and Rakim,
Moss Icon,
Howard Jones,
Reuben Wilson,
Spoonie Gee,
Dead Boys,
Anakelly,
Arab on Radar,
Icehouse,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gories,
Procol Harum,
Sugar Minott,
Country Teasers,
Peter and Kerry,
Fad Gadget,
Arcadia,
Television Personalities,
Faust,
The Vogues,
Bobby Sherman,
James White and The Blacks,
Bauhaus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.