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 Korea South and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gang Green to the electroclash 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Jawbox,
Yazoo,
Charles Mingus,
Easy Going,
Marshall Jefferson,
James White and The Blacks,
Mission of Burma,
Con Funk Shun,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quantec,
Man Eating Sloth,
Duran Duran,
Mo-Dettes,
Ronnie Foster,
Icehouse,
Deakin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yaz,
Guru Guru,
Amon Düül II,
Nas,
Brand Nubian,
The Stooges,
The Durutti Column,
The Martian,
Pussy Galore,
David Axelrod,
Blancmange,
Das Ding,
Newcleus,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Raincoats,
Sexual Harrassment,
Anakelly,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Smoke,
Sandy B,
Aloha Tigers,
Junior Murvin,
Susan Cadogan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Althea and Donna,
The Barracudas,
Bill Near,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fortunes,
The Selecter,
Rod Modell,
10cc,
John Coltrane,
Outsiders,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pulsallama,
Smog,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Donald Byrd,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.