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 Thailand and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Barracudas 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joey Negro,
Soul II Soul,
Archie Shepp,
Gabor Szabo,
Rod Modell,
June of 44,
Eden Ahbez,
Mantronix,
The Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
Con Funk Shun,
Arcadia,
Talk Talk,
Swans,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare,
Icehouse,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mr. Review,
Jawbox,
Deadbeat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arthur Verocai,
Simply Red,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Camouflage,
Patti Smith,
Duran Duran,
Piero Umiliani,
Audionom,
Man Parrish,
Livin' Joy,
The Blues Magoos,
The Toasters,
X-102,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Tremeloes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Names,
Smog,
Kerrie Biddell,
Y Pants,
Black Bananas,
Tres Demented,
The Barracudas,
Slave,
Wasted Youth,
The Smoke,
Davy DMX,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Al Stewart,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magma,
MDC,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wally Richardson,
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.