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 Ghana and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Boogie Down Productions to the punk 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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
8 Eyed Spy,
D'Angelo,
Todd Rundgren,
LL Cool J,
Depeche Mode,
Bauhaus,
Minutemen,
Donny Hathaway,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultravox,
June of 44,
The Dirtbombs,
The Buckinghams,
In Retrospect,
Joe Finger,
Boredoms,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Metal Thangz,
Delta 5,
Robert Wyatt,
Qualms,
Section 25,
Howard Jones,
Max Romeo,
Procol Harum,
Make Up,
Josef K,
Ralphi Rosario,
Janne Schatter,
Kerri Chandler,
Flash Fearless,
Wasted Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
David Bowie,
The Real Kids,
Von Mondo,
Porter Ricks,
Cheater Slicks,
The Names,
Hashim,
KRS-One,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Raincoats,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Youth Brigade,
The Five Americans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oneida,
MDC,
Nico,
James White and The Blacks,
The Red Krayola,
Thee Headcoats,
the Sonics,
Mission of Burma,
Frankie Knuckles,
Young Marble Giants,
Albert Ayler,
Prince Buster,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.