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 Guinea and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
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 sitar 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 Shoche to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Lindisfarne,
T.S.O.L.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
MC5,
Robert Hood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Cale,
The Gun Club,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Pus,
Harmonia,
Derrick May,
Mandrill,
Maleditus Sound,
Oneida,
Fad Gadget,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doors,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Black Dice,
Danielle Patucci,
Hoover,
The Gap Band,
Andrew Hill,
The Mojo Men,
Barrington Levy,
Dave Gahan,
Rosa Yemen,
Altered Images,
The Techniques,
The Leaves,
Unrelated Segments,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moss Icon,
Whodini,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Todd Rundgren,
Cal Tjader,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Adolescents,
Crime,
Spoonie Gee,
The Red Krayola,
Ken Boothe,
The Selecter,
The Wake,
The Fire Engines,
The Star Department,
Goldenarms,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Zapp,
Bob Dylan,
Donald Byrd,
Ossler,
Avey Tare,
CMW,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.