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 Japan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Grey Daturas to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Panda Bear,
The Young Rascals,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Birthday Party,
Fluxion,
The Walker Brothers,
The Pop Group,
Tears for Fears,
the Fania All-Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Golliwogs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Susan Cadogan,
Barbara Tucker,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hashim,
Cymande,
Alphaville,
The Neon Judgement,
Sun Ra,
Stetsasonic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Invisible,
Donald Byrd,
The Monks,
Lungfish,
the Normal,
Scott Walker,
Guru Guru,
Marvin Gaye,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
E-Dancer,
The Offenders,
June of 44,
Liliput,
Crispy Ambulance,
Japan,
Duran Duran,
Scientists,
Subhumans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Reed,
Rites of Spring,
Arthur Verocai,
Rufus Thomas,
Ronan,
Marshall Jefferson,
FM Einheit,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cowsills,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Half Japanese,
Glenn Branca,
Michelle Simonal,
La Düsseldorf,
48th St. Collective,
The Seeds,
Sex Pistols,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.