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 Somalia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe 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 the Fania All-Stars 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Motions,
Faraquet,
Aloha Tigers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
PIL,
K-Klass,
Swans,
Hashim,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Au Pairs,
Matthew Bourne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
DJ Sneak,
Hoover,
Bauhaus,
The Trojans,
Wire,
Talk Talk,
Tears for Fears,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sällskapet,
Livin' Joy,
Wasted Youth,
Niagra,
Rosa Yemen,
The Detroit Cobras,
Echospace,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Todd Rundgren,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Television Personalities,
Spoonie Gee,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Skarface,
Maleditus Sound,
Gong,
Young Marble Giants,
Gichy Dan,
Don Cherry,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sixth Finger,
Gabor Szabo,
Max Romeo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Bananas,
Accadde A,
Derrick Morgan,
Pantytec,
E-Dancer,
Blossom Toes,
Rufus Thomas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers,
Quantec,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Excepter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.