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 Solomon Islands and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rites of Spring to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Move,
Leonard Cohen,
Dark Day,
Fela Kuti,
Country Teasers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rosa Yemen,
The Slits,
The Sonics,
EPMD,
Urselle,
Stetsasonic,
Sight & Sound,
Nas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sound,
Reagan Youth,
Quantec,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
Infiniti,
Outsiders,
Junior Murvin,
Warsaw,
Lou Christie,
Cameo,
Shoche,
Crash Course in Science,
Lalann,
Neil Young,
Sonny Sharrock,
Albert Ayler,
Ronnie Foster,
Blossom Toes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crooked Eye,
H. Thieme,
Josef K,
Lyres,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Sheep,
The Gun Club,
X-101,
Moss Icon,
The Names,
Organ,
Tommy Roe,
Sparks,
Sixth Finger,
Theoretical Girls,
Darondo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mo-Dettes,
Eurythmics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barbara Tucker,
Television Personalities,
Suburban Knight,
Morten Harket,
The Doors,
Jandek,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.