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 Italy and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Rapeman to the disco 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review 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?
David Axelrod,
The Misunderstood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Procol Harum,
Blancmange,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Evens,
Alice Coltrane,
PIL,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rosa Yemen,
The Associates,
Eric Dolphy,
Scan 7,
Sam Rivers,
Minor Threat,
Nas,
The Seeds,
John Coltrane,
Pierre Henry,
Leonard Cohen,
Piero Umiliani,
The Remains,
Smog,
Country Teasers,
Panda Bear,
Scientists,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Busters,
The Angels of Light,
The Blackbyrds,
Chrome,
Tommy Roe,
Sarah Menescal,
Excepter,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Connie Case,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Groovy Waters,
Lee Hazlewood,
DNA,
Half Japanese,
Motorama,
Fad Gadget,
Boredoms,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang of Four,
Faraquet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Swell Maps,
Gichy Dan,
Wally Richardson,
The Beau Brummels,
Whodini,
Supertramp,
Bauhaus,
Ice-T,
Das Ding,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.