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 Bangladesh and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ludus to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five 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 jazz 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
The Beau Brummels,
Drexciya,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camouflage,
The Music Machine,
Crime,
Oneida,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Move,
Yellowson,
The Seeds,
Junior Murvin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Masters at Work,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scientists,
Eric Dolphy,
Porter Ricks,
Can,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bad Manners,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Inner City,
Cheater Slicks,
Marine Girls,
Rekid,
Eddi Front,
The Red Krayola,
Morten Harket,
Althea and Donna,
Barry Ungar,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Womack,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Agent Orange,
Joe Finger,
Ornette Coleman,
The Misunderstood,
Alice Coltrane,
Lungfish,
The Golliwogs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nas,
The Pretty Things,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Neon Judgement,
Thompson Twins,
The New Christs,
Marmalade,
The Five Americans,
Don Cherry,
The Vogues,
Subhumans,
Little Man,
John Cale,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.