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 Andorra and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Matthew Halsall to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nico,
Metal Thangz,
Mars,
The Trojans,
The Knickerbockers,
Suburban Knight,
Eli Mardock,
Lyres,
Motorama,
The United States of America,
Zapp,
Ten City,
Black Bananas,
The Wake,
Marmalade,
The Happenings,
Sight & Sound,
Desert Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Rapeman,
June Days,
Delta 5,
Letta Mbulu,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Barry Ungar,
Rufus Thomas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Brick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Pretty Things,
Half Japanese,
Bob Dylan,
The Electric Prunes,
Stetsasonic,
Fatback Band,
EPMD,
Second Layer,
Rotary Connection,
Dual Sessions,
Maurizio,
Eurythmics,
Janne Schatter,
Schoolly D,
Brothers Johnson,
Charles Mingus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Zeros,
Bluetip,
The Mummies,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mandrill,
The Skatalites,
New Age Steppers,
Malaria!,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.