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 Belize and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eddi Front to the rock 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Selecter,
Make Up,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Delon & Dalcan,
Isaac Hayes,
Altered Images,
The Sound,
Livin' Joy,
Darondo,
The Leaves,
The Modern Lovers,
Rotary Connection,
The Blues Magoos,
Stiv Bators,
Peter and Kerry,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bang On A Can,
The Busters,
Barbara Tucker,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Spandau Ballet,
The Walker Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sun City Girls,
Dark Day,
Soft Cell,
The Sonics,
World's Most,
The Slackers,
Robert Wyatt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scott Walker,
Jeff Mills,
The Fall,
Juan Atkins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eli Mardock,
Ossler,
Lakeside,
Quando Quango,
Erykah Badu,
The Cowsills,
The Divine Comedy,
Guru Guru,
Fort Wilson Riot,
David McCallum,
L. Decosne,
Ultravox,
Flash Fearless,
Eric B and Rakim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Leonard Cohen,
Suicide,
Marcia Griffiths,
Adolescents,
Lebanon Hanover,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grey Daturas,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.