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 Benin and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Banda Bassotti to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Isaac Hayes,
Average White Band,
Black Sheep,
Pagans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tubeway Army,
Accadde A,
Boredoms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Little Man,
Dead Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Peter & Gordon,
Bob Dylan,
The Dirtbombs,
The Divine Comedy,
Eurythmics,
a-ha,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pylon,
Cymande,
The Grass Roots,
The Moody Blues,
Gabor Szabo,
Lower 48,
The New Christs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Whodini,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Radiohead,
Loose Ends,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Livin' Joy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Young Rascals,
Stetsasonic,
Tropical Tobacco,
Altered Images,
Scion,
Moby Grape,
The Barracudas,
Wire,
Q and Not U,
The Monks,
MC5,
Warsaw,
Zero Boys,
Deadbeat,
Yaz,
Television,
Alice Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
KRS-One,
Kaleidoscope,
Sight & Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.