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 Maldives and from Manila.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes 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 Das Ding to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
The Invisible,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Graham Central Station,
The Detroit Cobras,
This Heat,
The Fugs,
Subhumans,
World's Most,
Crash Course in Science,
Minutemen,
Ultra Naté,
Darondo,
Erykah Badu,
Bronski Beat,
Skarface,
Glenn Branca,
Eddi Front,
X-101,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cowsills,
Crooked Eye,
Los Fastidios,
Fatback Band,
Visage,
Kayak,
Wally Richardson,
Albert Ayler,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Bananas,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Sherman,
Carl Craig,
Siglo XX,
The Names,
Roy Ayers,
Theoretical Girls,
Neu!,
John Holt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Black Dice,
Bill Near,
Silicon Teens,
Technova,
Al Stewart,
Joe Finger,
The Music Machine,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rekid,
the Bar-Kays,
Gabor Szabo,
Mantronix,
Wire,
The Techniques,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Don Cherry,
Ossler,
Pussy Galore,
Barry Ungar,
Lakeside,
Moby Grape,
The Birthday Party,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.