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 Kuwait and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kinks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Spandau Ballet,
Isaac Hayes,
One Last Wish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rhythm & Sound,
10cc,
EPMD,
Fad Gadget,
The Five Americans,
The Moleskins,
Unwound,
Joy Division,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wasted Youth,
Alice Coltrane,
The Stooges,
H. Thieme,
Roxette,
Lucky Dragons,
Jandek,
Loose Ends,
Piero Umiliani,
Absolute Body Control,
The Dead C,
Ken Boothe,
The Birthday Party,
Donald Byrd,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Robert Hood,
Rakim,
Black Sheep,
June of 44,
John Lydon,
Man Parrish,
ABC,
Average White Band,
LL Cool J,
Mantronix,
Amazonics,
Scrapy,
Mo-Dettes,
Todd Rundgren,
Organ,
The Monochrome Set,
The Last Poets,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Country Teasers,
Jeff Mills,
Supertramp,
Tomorrow,
Little Man,
New Order,
The Busters,
Lightning Bolt,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gun Club,
Malaria!,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.