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 Latvia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jeru the Damaja to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
The American Breed,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Little Man,
Symarip,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tommy Roe,
Popol Vuh,
June of 44,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Minny Pops,
Black Bananas,
Delta 5,
Grey Daturas,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Icehouse,
Barclay James Harvest,
Terrestrial Tones,
Saccharine Trust,
The Real Kids,
Television,
Index,
Soft Cell,
The Blackbyrds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amazonics,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Skaos,
Prince Buster,
Eric B and Rakim,
Surgeon,
Swell Maps,
Hoover,
Duran Duran,
Josef K,
Oblivians,
Boredoms,
Eve St. Jones,
Spoonie Gee,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Sherman,
The J.B.'s,
Barbara Tucker,
John Lydon,
a-ha,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Machine,
Section 25,
Eric Copeland,
The Golliwogs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Angry Samoans,
Jawbox,
One Last Wish,
Pet Shop Boys,
Electric Prunes,
Blake Baxter,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.