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 Tajikistan and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Last Poets to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Suburban Knight,
Stiv Bators,
Rotary Connection,
Subhumans,
Ronan,
Skaos,
Pharoah Sanders,
Darondo,
EPMD,
Soft Cell,
Graham Central Station,
Pulsallama,
MC5,
Q and Not U,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kurtis Blow,
The Moleskins,
Oneida,
Radiohead,
The Invisible,
The Mojo Men,
Swans,
Hot Snakes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pole,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
This Heat,
The Victims,
One Last Wish,
John Lydon,
Brothers Johnson,
Monolake,
Underground Resistance,
Wasted Youth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gories,
The Last Poets,
Rakim,
Scion,
Suicide,
These Immortal Souls,
Clear Light,
Von Mondo,
Delta 5,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacques Brel,
the Human League,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Five Americans,
Moebius,
Agitation Free,
The Star Department,
Crooked Eye,
The Velvet Underground,
Tears for Fears,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.