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 Togo and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Saints to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kaleidoscope,
Brand Nubian,
New York Dolls,
Symarip,
Sun Ra,
Section 25,
La Düsseldorf,
Deadbeat,
The Divine Comedy,
Hashim,
Index,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fugazi,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tom Boy,
Shoche,
Joey Negro,
Jerry's Kids,
Angry Samoans,
Sällskapet,
Y Pants,
Kerri Chandler,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ralphi Rosario,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Todd Terry,
Ultra Naté,
Ituana,
Eric Copeland,
The Monochrome Set,
The New Christs,
Don Cherry,
Blancmange,
Terrestrial Tones,
MC5,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vainqueur,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fortunes,
Severed Heads,
Audionom,
the Slits,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Drexciya,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Star Department,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Martian,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Q and Not U,
the Human League,
The Evens,
Thee Headcoats,
June Days,
Slave,
Qualms,
JFA,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.