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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 OOIOO to the funk 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Sneak,
Main Source,
Gang of Four,
John Foxx,
Cybotron,
Amon Düül II,
Jacob Miller,
Alison Limerick,
Excepter,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tomorrow,
Cal Tjader,
Electric Prunes,
Faraquet,
Grey Daturas,
Lightning Bolt,
Man Parrish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stiv Bators,
Symarip,
Slave,
Sonic Youth,
Cheater Slicks,
Dark Day,
June of 44,
Pylon,
One Last Wish,
World's Most,
Quando Quango,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
K-Klass,
The Doors,
Rosa Yemen,
Bill Near,
Severed Heads,
Whodini,
Terry Callier,
Circle Jerks,
Lungfish,
Henry Cow,
New York Dolls,
Newcleus,
Livin' Joy,
Kerri Chandler,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Johnny Clarke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
X-101,
The Wake,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fugs,
Reagan Youth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Offenders,
Al Stewart,
Suicide,
Sixth Finger,
Crispy Ambulance,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.