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 Niger and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Young Marble Giants to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Christie,
Scrapy,
The Doors,
Wings,
Young Marble Giants,
Derrick Morgan,
Niagra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Josef K,
10cc,
The Moleskins,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gabor Szabo,
OOIOO,
Black Flag,
The Leaves,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skarface,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Victims,
Clear Light,
Shoche,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skriet,
Nik Kershaw,
Lalann,
The Count Five,
The Beau Brummels,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lyres,
The Offenders,
Marc Almond,
The Flesh Eaters,
Radio Birdman,
The Gladiators,
World's Most,
Janne Schatter,
Rapeman,
Bobby Sherman,
The J.B.'s,
Robert Wyatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Slackers,
Bush Tetras,
Hot Snakes,
Blossom Toes,
Iggy Pop,
Los Fastidios,
Tropical Tobacco,
Magazine,
Faust,
Ituana,
the Germs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.