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 United Kingdom and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Delta 5 to the funk 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
the Germs,
Mark Hollis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Au Pairs,
Junior Murvin,
B.T. Express,
Black Flag,
Albert Ayler,
Pet Shop Boys,
Guru Guru,
Ponytail,
Minnie Riperton,
X-Ray Spex,
Slick Rick,
Newcleus,
The Dead C,
Model 500,
Icehouse,
Frankie Knuckles,
Zapp,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Toasters,
The Durutti Column,
Eve St. Jones,
Cameo,
DJ Sneak,
New Age Steppers,
The Real Kids,
The American Breed,
Dave Gahan,
the Sonics,
L. Decosne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fatback Band,
Q and Not U,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Monochrome Set,
Brick,
John Cale,
Sam Rivers,
Cymande,
Hot Snakes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crime,
KRS-One,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
10cc,
Barbara Tucker,
Severed Heads,
Flash Fearless,
Whodini,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bronski Beat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Agent Orange,
June Days,
Nirvana,
Judy Mowatt,
Brothers Johnson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.