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 Malta and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Cell to the rock 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Chris Corsano,
Wolf Eyes,
Minor Threat,
Vainqueur,
Blossom Toes,
Reuben Wilson,
Essential Logic,
Moss Icon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sight & Sound,
The Techniques,
Ohio Players,
Chrome,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lungfish,
The Divine Comedy,
Chris & Cosey,
Bang On A Can,
The Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Morten Harket,
the Bar-Kays,
ABBA,
Minutemen,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crime,
Eve St. Jones,
Accadde A,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Byrd,
kango's stein massive,
Roger Hodgson,
The Busters,
Zero Boys,
Q65,
The Mummies,
Soft Machine,
Prince Buster,
Livin' Joy,
The Wake,
Lightning Bolt,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roy Ayers,
Drexciya,
Kurtis Blow,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aloha Tigers,
Lakeside,
The Human League,
Gong,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang of Four,
Ossler,
Terry Callier,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Panda Bear,
Eurythmics,
Radio Birdman,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.