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 Palau and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kevin Saunderson to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Stetsasonic,
The American Breed,
Black Flag,
Tres Demented,
Rakim,
Joey Negro,
Accadde A,
World's Most,
Cameo,
R.M.O.,
Rapeman,
Metal Thangz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Public Enemy,
Radiopuhelimet,
A Certain Ratio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Freddie Wadling,
Boredoms,
The Durutti Column,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kenny Larkin,
a-ha,
Unrelated Segments,
the Germs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joensuu 1685,
Todd Terry,
Hoover,
The Gladiators,
Eric Copeland,
KRS-One,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gang Green,
Minor Threat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Pylon,
Alison Limerick,
The J.B.'s,
The Techniques,
Moebius,
The Gun Club,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed,
Wally Richardson,
Bluetip,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
June of 44,
Easy Going,
Juan Atkins,
Camouflage,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
David McCallum,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Electric Prunes,
Bobby Byrd,
the Slits,
Janne Schatter,
The Names,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.