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 East Timor and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Blossom Toes to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skaos,
Dark Day,
Kerri Chandler,
Jacob Miller,
Pussy Galore,
Main Source,
the Association,
Quantec,
Model 500,
Supertramp,
Second Layer,
Zapp,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ralphi Rosario,
Silicon Teens,
Shuggie Otis,
Deadbeat,
Lou Reed,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
PIL,
Ultra Naté,
K-Klass,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arthur Verocai,
Eve St. Jones,
Sparks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Half Japanese,
Talk Talk,
Neu!,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joensuu 1685,
Buzzcocks,
Symarip,
Easy Going,
Henry Cow,
Danielle Patucci,
The Techniques,
the Soft Cell,
Al Stewart,
Sound Behaviour,
Sex Pistols,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Litter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Guru Guru,
Donny Hathaway,
Archie Shepp,
Blancmange,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cure,
Youth Brigade,
Sonic Youth,
The Buckinghams,
The Vogues,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.