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 Rwanda and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Nirvana to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
AZ,
Popol Vuh,
the Association,
Kool Moe Dee,
Visage,
Sun City Girls,
Jeff Mills,
Ultra Naté,
Harry Pussy,
Lungfish,
Hot Snakes,
Public Enemy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Blossom Toes,
Brothers Johnson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jandek,
Livin' Joy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Qualms,
Guru Guru,
Dave Gahan,
U.S. Maple,
Unwound,
The Birthday Party,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pulsallama,
Urselle,
L. Decosne,
Swans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Clarke,
Infiniti,
F. McDonald,
Grauzone,
X-Ray Spex,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Piero Umiliani,
Fad Gadget,
Lakeside,
Glenn Branca,
The Electric Prunes,
Agitation Free,
Bill Wells,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scientists,
Rufus Thomas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Flag,
OOIOO,
Index,
the Sonics,
Sex Pistols,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fall,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soul II Soul,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.