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 Slovenia and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crash Course in Science to the rock 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '90s.
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 Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Liliput,
B.T. Express,
Byron Stingily,
Model 500,
Fat Boys,
The Techniques,
Guru Guru,
Nick Fraelich,
The Skatalites,
Brick,
The Invisible,
Silicon Teens,
Marvin Gaye,
The Moody Blues,
Unwound,
Carl Craig,
The Searchers,
The Cure,
Sam Rivers,
Q and Not U,
Country Teasers,
The Music Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
The Happenings,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scion,
Infiniti,
Skarface,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Slits,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siglo XX,
Urselle,
Basic Channel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sällskapet,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Starr,
Archie Shepp,
Radio Birdman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bill Near,
Gong,
Blancmange,
Flash Fearless,
Andrew Hill,
Max Romeo,
The Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Surgeon,
MC5,
Ice-T,
Audionom,
Johnny Osbourne,
Intrusion,
Fugazi,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Youth Brigade,
Babytalk,
The Grass Roots,
Oneida,
The Saints,
Sound Behaviour,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.