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 Bahrain and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The Barracudas,
Bang On A Can,
Agitation Free,
The Busters,
Brand Nubian,
The Raincoats,
The Fortunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Erykah Badu,
Mo-Dettes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Godley & Creme,
Reagan Youth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aaron Thompson,
The Electric Prunes,
Prince Buster,
The Angels of Light,
Scan 7,
Bronski Beat,
The Vogues,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
Tres Demented,
The Techniques,
Ossler,
Mandrill,
The Trojans,
cv313,
Fluxion,
Yusef Lateef,
Dark Day,
Eurythmics,
Peter and Kerry,
Barry Ungar,
Simply Red,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gories,
Sun Ra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tim Buckley,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soft Cell,
The Pop Group,
The Pretty Things,
The New Christs,
Monks,
Pussy Galore,
The United States of America,
Spoonie Gee,
Bill Near,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Dirtbombs,
Lindisfarne,
Desert Stars,
Funkadelic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fear,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Donald Byrd,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.