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 Hungary and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Wally Richardson to the jazz 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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Kaleidoscope,
Organ,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Busters,
Marcia Griffiths,
X-102,
DNA,
Crooked Eye,
Cheater Slicks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Residents,
The Stooges,
ABBA,
Cluster,
Ornette Coleman,
Country Teasers,
The Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Count Five,
Sandy B,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Skatalites,
Peter and Kerry,
Freddie Wadling,
Howard Jones,
Al Stewart,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Heaven 17,
Tommy Roe,
Delta 5,
X-101,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gladiators,
Ultimate Spinach,
K-Klass,
The Monks,
The Selecter,
T. Rex,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Max Romeo,
The Angels of Light,
Patti Smith,
Rekid,
the Swans,
Metal Thangz,
Arthur Verocai,
Brothers Johnson,
The Toasters,
Flash Fearless,
Johnny Clarke,
The Slackers,
The Buckinghams,
Erasure,
Yusef Lateef,
Altered Images,
Sarah Menescal,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pierre Henry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bad Manners,
Sex Pistols,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.