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 Solomon Islands and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 crunk 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
The Techniques,
Zapp,
D'Angelo,
Rites of Spring,
Minutemen,
Tomorrow,
Godley & Creme,
Derrick Morgan,
Yazoo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cluster,
Hot Snakes,
Tubeway Army,
Ponytail,
Maleditus Sound,
Isaac Hayes,
Fugazi,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
a-ha,
Man Parrish,
Alton Ellis,
Eddi Front,
Pet Shop Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fatback Band,
Laurel Aitken,
China Crisis,
The Velvet Underground,
Franke,
Charles Mingus,
F. McDonald,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cowsills,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeff Lynne,
Quadrant,
The Blackbyrds,
EPMD,
Pierre Henry,
The Cure,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Newcleus,
Wally Richardson,
Animal Collective,
Mr. Review,
Flipper,
Bluetip,
The Neon Judgement,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Can,
Scion,
Tropical Tobacco,
U.S. Maple,
Interpol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.