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 Pakistan and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro 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 The Residents to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '80s.
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 Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Groovy Waters,
The Happenings,
Khruangbin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mr. Review,
L. Decosne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
JFA,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Chris Corsano,
Reagan Youth,
Byron Stingily,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ponytail,
La Düsseldorf,
Qualms,
Symarip,
Depeche Mode,
Blossom Toes,
Sex Pistols,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Last Poets,
Marcia Griffiths,
Oneida,
Scratch Acid,
Boz Scaggs,
Nik Kershaw,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eurythmics,
Rufus Thomas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ultravox,
Glambeats Corp.,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cure,
Black Flag,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hoover,
Scion,
The Young Rascals,
Eddi Front,
Graham Central Station,
Jeff Lynne,
Alphaville,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boredoms,
Joyce Sims,
The Durutti Column,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mummies,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mission of Burma,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.