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 Sweden and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum 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 Fat Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantaleimon,
Section 25,
Eric Copeland,
Pagans,
The Skatalites,
Quantec,
JFA,
Steve Hackett,
Television,
Crooked Eye,
Amazonics,
Franke,
Massinfluence,
Pharoah Sanders,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Smiths,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sandy B,
the Sonics,
Eurythmics,
Alphaville,
K-Klass,
Nils Olav,
Radio Birdman,
FM Einheit,
Hasil Adkins,
The Residents,
Jeff Lynne,
New York Dolls,
The Trojans,
Desert Stars,
Camouflage,
Saccharine Trust,
Peter & Gordon,
Yellowson,
Donny Hathaway,
Nirvana,
Cluster,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rekid,
H. Thieme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dark Day,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jimmy McGriff,
Intrusion,
David Axelrod,
World's Most,
Gang Starr,
Rosa Yemen,
Slick Rick,
Lungfish,
Half Japanese,
The Monks,
Alison Limerick,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.