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 Egypt and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the rap 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Main Source,
Echospace,
The Trojans,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Selecter,
Intrusion,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Angels of Light,
X-102,
Bob Dylan,
Fela Kuti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alison Limerick,
Underground Resistance,
Pere Ubu,
Gabor Szabo,
Hashim,
Y Pants,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mars,
Rakim,
Q and Not U,
The Dead C,
Organ,
New York Dolls,
Newcleus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scion,
The Fire Engines,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lakeside,
The Sonics,
X-101,
Royal Trux,
Public Enemy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The United States of America,
Bush Tetras,
Morten Harket,
Alice Coltrane,
The Slits,
David McCallum,
Nils Olav,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Walker Brothers,
MC5,
Jesper Dahlback,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barbara Tucker,
Babytalk,
Blake Baxter,
Anthony Braxton,
Negative Approach,
The Litter,
Cymande,
Gang Green,
Toni Rubio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.