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 East Timor and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 F. McDonald to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Television,
The Fuzztones,
Tears for Fears,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Laurel Aitken,
Scott Walker,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Model 500,
Minutemen,
Ash Ra Tempel,
ABBA,
Stockholm Monsters,
FM Einheit,
Hardrive,
Deadbeat,
Schoolly D,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Unwound,
Adolescents,
The United States of America,
Guru Guru,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
D'Angelo,
Byron Stingily,
Circle Jerks,
Oneida,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
The Misunderstood,
Youth Brigade,
UT,
Ultimate Spinach,
Big Daddy Kane,
Masters at Work,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cheater Slicks,
Blossom Toes,
Sight & Sound,
Alphaville,
LL Cool J,
Godley & Creme,
The Mummies,
Dark Day,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
Whodini,
Rosa Yemen,
Organ,
Heaven 17,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wally Richardson,
Sam Rivers,
June Days,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Outsiders,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.