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 Seychelles and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Michael McDonald 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 ABC to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Grey Daturas,
Circle Jerks,
Average White Band,
The Happenings,
Neu!,
Sparks,
The Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Godley & Creme,
The Moleskins,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Sneak,
New York Dolls,
La Düsseldorf,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Byrd,
Sarah Menescal,
Piero Umiliani,
Marvin Gaye,
Ornette Coleman,
The Toasters,
Avey Tare,
K-Klass,
Bad Manners,
Arcadia,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gang of Four,
The Vogues,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nico,
Loose Ends,
Neil Young,
Angry Samoans,
Joyce Sims,
Laurel Aitken,
Infiniti,
ABC,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stiv Bators,
the Normal,
The Smiths,
Freddie Wadling,
H. Thieme,
Fear,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Index,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Accadde A,
Clear Light,
Marine Girls,
The Zeros,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Zapp,
Rod Modell,
Sällskapet,
The Mummies,
Barry Ungar,
Moss Icon,
Charles Mingus,
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.