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 Thailand and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Bananas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Lucky Dragons,
Flash Fearless,
Terry Callier,
Marvin Gaye,
Tubeway Army,
The Moody Blues,
Chris Corsano,
Pierre Henry,
Visage,
Cluster,
Gang Green,
Eurythmics,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Cell,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oneida,
Animal Collective,
Au Pairs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Misunderstood,
Hoover,
Trumans Water,
The Tremeloes,
Black Pus,
Khruangbin,
Mars,
Electric Prunes,
Suicide,
Eli Mardock,
The Velvet Underground,
Tommy Roe,
Kayak,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Warsaw,
China Crisis,
U.S. Maple,
Desert Stars,
Excepter,
Zero Boys,
The Gories,
Wings,
Nick Fraelich,
The Doobie Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
The Seeds,
Rhythm & Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Christie,
The Cure,
Pere Ubu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wasted Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pussy Galore,
Nils Olav,
Sex Pistols,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Qualms,
Technova,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.