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 Cambodia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Red Krayola to the funk 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 Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Pole,
Wally Richardson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
The Slackers,
Girls At Our Best!,
The American Breed,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Martian,
The Grass Roots,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The United States of America,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Masters at Work,
The Moleskins,
Tim Buckley,
Deakin,
The Mojo Men,
Main Source,
New Age Steppers,
The Remains,
Nico,
Thompson Twins,
Mad Mike,
Rosa Yemen,
Cameo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nick Fraelich,
Silicon Teens,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
U.S. Maple,
Country Teasers,
Von Mondo,
Juan Atkins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marshall Jefferson,
Todd Terry,
Second Layer,
Brothers Johnson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Maurizio,
Yellowson,
Television,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Green,
World's Most,
Sugar Minott,
June of 44,
Black Flag,
Scrapy,
Minor Threat,
AZ,
Grandmaster Flash,
Howard Jones,
The Moody Blues,
Iggy Pop,
Eddi Front,
Goldenarms,
Sällskapet,
New York Dolls,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.