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 Nicaragua and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Soulsonic Force,
Sex Pistols,
the Slits,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barry Ungar,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
EPMD,
Pylon,
Bronski Beat,
Brass Construction,
MC5,
Nation of Ulysses,
Schoolly D,
The Searchers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Remains,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
Babytalk,
Suburban Knight,
Index,
Youth Brigade,
LL Cool J,
Funky Four + One,
Warsaw,
Icehouse,
The Music Machine,
The Sonics,
Black Pus,
Scott Walker,
The Walker Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Inner City,
Junior Murvin,
Echospace,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ken Boothe,
Mo-Dettes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Juan Atkins,
Joy Division,
The Misunderstood,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Gang Dance,
Donny Hathaway,
Mr. Review,
Ronnie Foster,
Symarip,
the Soft Cell,
Intrusion,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Happenings,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sound,
Simply Red,
Angry Samoans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Seeds,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.