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 Gabon and from Philadelphia.
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 Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Bob Dylan to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Peter & Gordon,
The Offenders,
Icehouse,
L. Decosne,
Babytalk,
Roger Hodgson,
Aaron Thompson,
Depeche Mode,
Junior Murvin,
Jacques Brel,
Ultravox,
The Velvet Underground,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
Nik Kershaw,
Swans,
Black Moon,
B.T. Express,
Erykah Badu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sarah Menescal,
Bob Dylan,
The Real Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wire,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joe Finger,
Camouflage,
Symarip,
Eve St. Jones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brand Nubian,
Hot Snakes,
Swell Maps,
The Fortunes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fela Kuti,
Bush Tetras,
The Monochrome Set,
Janne Schatter,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fugs,
Grey Daturas,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pylon,
The Mojo Men,
Albert Ayler,
Sandy B,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Franke,
Cameo,
Althea and Donna,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Toni Rubio,
Grauzone,
David Axelrod,
ABC,
Sister Nancy,
Tom Boy,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.