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 Ireland and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 DJ Sneak to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Martian,
Moebius,
Wasted Youth,
Pantaleimon,
Patti Smith,
the Swans,
Arthur Verocai,
The Velvet Underground,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sparks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Arab on Radar,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantytec,
Yazoo,
Pussy Galore,
Underground Resistance,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Association,
UT,
The New Christs,
Neil Young,
The Monochrome Set,
Model 500,
Anthony Braxton,
This Heat,
June of 44,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Smiths,
Wings,
Erykah Badu,
Reagan Youth,
Roxette,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bush Tetras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Bar-Kays,
Deakin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scratch Acid,
Pere Ubu,
Monolake,
The Raincoats,
Public Image Ltd.,
Prince Buster,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fuzztones,
Tears for Fears,
Black Sheep,
The Young Rascals,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eurythmics,
Jeff Lynne,
Scientists,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soulsonic Force,
Amon Düül II,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.