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 Malawi and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar 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 Junior Murvin to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
The Black Dice,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sight & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
CMW,
The Litter,
AZ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ice-T,
Brothers Johnson,
Terry Callier,
Nick Fraelich,
Los Fastidios,
This Heat,
Aswad,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Saints,
X-Ray Spex,
Livin' Joy,
Morten Harket,
Make Up,
Skaos,
Gichy Dan,
Delta 5,
LL Cool J,
The Fire Engines,
Ultravox,
Suburban Knight,
Pulsallama,
Oblivians,
The Wake,
The Pop Group,
Bronski Beat,
Panda Bear,
Aural Exciters,
Charles Mingus,
L. Decosne,
Jacques Brel,
Electric Prunes,
John Cale,
Cybotron,
B.T. Express,
Aaron Thompson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Robert Görl,
UT,
The Neon Judgement,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lower 48,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lakeside,
Vainqueur,
H. Thieme,
Howard Jones,
Heaven 17,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cheater Slicks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.