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 Tanzania and from Hong Kong.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Brothers Johnson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Camouflage,
The Beau Brummels,
The Wake,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jacob Miller,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rod Modell,
Prince Buster,
The Dirtbombs,
Alison Limerick,
Maurizio,
Nik Kershaw,
Swans,
Pantaleimon,
Gang Starr,
Connie Case,
Dark Day,
Jawbox,
Bizarre Inc.,
Avey Tare,
Marc Almond,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Trojans,
The Gun Club,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minutemen,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gladiators,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Altered Images,
Yusef Lateef,
Isaac Hayes,
Laurel Aitken,
The Slackers,
R.M.O.,
Symarip,
James White and The Blacks,
This Heat,
the Slits,
the Normal,
Tommy Roe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Shuggie Otis,
Matthew Halsall,
Carl Craig,
Thompson Twins,
Graham Central Station,
Johnny Clarke,
Zapp,
Barrington Levy,
Rites of Spring,
Japan,
Funkadelic,
Flipper,
Yaz,
Gong,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eddi Front,
Robert Hood,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.