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 Congo and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Wings 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
The Names,
Lakeside,
The Misunderstood,
Drexciya,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang of Four,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Smiths,
PIL,
the Fania All-Stars,
Agent Orange,
Sonic Youth,
Oblivians,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dave Gahan,
Khruangbin,
Nico,
Severed Heads,
Kayak,
Mary Jane Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Duran Duran,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
MC5,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Robert Görl,
Electric Prunes,
Fatback Band,
Stereo Dub,
Reagan Youth,
Tomorrow,
Kurtis Blow,
Flamin' Groovies,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stiv Bators,
Man Eating Sloth,
B.T. Express,
Hot Snakes,
Pulsallama,
Public Enemy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Chris Corsano,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dark Day,
Mantronix,
Jawbox,
Bobby Sherman,
Gong,
Ituana,
Y Pants,
Matthew Halsall,
Hardrive,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Erykah Badu,
Moby Grape,
Masters at Work,
Skaos,
10cc,
Lungfish,
Marmalade,
Wings,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.