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 Libya and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stetsasonic to the disco 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
The Durutti Column,
Black Moon,
Public Enemy,
The Gladiators,
Siglo XX,
Johnny Clarke,
James White and The Blacks,
X-Ray Spex,
Carl Craig,
Dorothy Ashby,
Faust,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Kerri Chandler,
Cecil Taylor,
David Bowie,
Althea and Donna,
Terry Callier,
Robert Hood,
Section 25,
Aaron Thompson,
The Techniques,
Tom Boy,
Gichy Dan,
Leonard Cohen,
World's Most,
Swans,
Subhumans,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Young Rascals,
Brick,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alison Limerick,
FM Einheit,
The Gun Club,
Surgeon,
Cheater Slicks,
R.M.O.,
Bill Near,
David Axelrod,
Blancmange,
Newcleus,
The Dead C,
The Moleskins,
Bobby Byrd,
Lakeside,
Outsiders,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eve St. Jones,
Man Parrish,
The New Christs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Moody Blues,
Anakelly,
The Index,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Hot Snakes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Groovy Waters,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.