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 Zambia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jimmy McGriff to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Popol Vuh,
The Move,
Cecil Taylor,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camberwell Now,
Sister Nancy,
Minnie Riperton,
Outsiders,
Chris & Cosey,
Q and Not U,
Ultimate Spinach,
Visage,
Das Ding,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fad Gadget,
The Motions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Knickerbockers,
Camouflage,
Tubeway Army,
The Sound,
Suburban Knight,
Moby Grape,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marmalade,
Swans,
Lower 48,
Anakelly,
The Gun Club,
Fear,
Blake Baxter,
Tears for Fears,
Fela Kuti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soul Sonic Force,
T.S.O.L.,
Bauhaus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mantronix,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lou Christie,
Lyres,
Pere Ubu,
The American Breed,
The Vogues,
Aural Exciters,
T. Rex,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ituana,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Walker Brothers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Black Bananas,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.