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 Zambia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Surgeon to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Electric Prunes,
The Blues Magoos,
The Names,
Spandau Ballet,
Lyres,
Liliput,
The Searchers,
Simply Red,
The Dave Clark Five,
Matthew Bourne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Five Americans,
Brass Construction,
The Remains,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Barclay James Harvest,
Johnny Clarke,
Newcleus,
Aswad,
Country Joe & The Fish,
MDC,
Prince Buster,
Pussy Galore,
PIL,
Ultravox,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Spoonie Gee,
Camouflage,
Bob Dylan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New York Dolls,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fortunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sound Behaviour,
Arab on Radar,
Bill Wells,
The Fire Engines,
Buzzcocks,
Bang On A Can,
Khruangbin,
Joyce Sims,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radiohead,
Television,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Sonics,
Don Cherry,
Bush Tetras,
Agitation Free,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.