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 Malawi and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bob Dylan to the crunk 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Nils Olav,
Thompson Twins,
The Gories,
L. Decosne,
The Neon Judgement,
Slick Rick,
Warren Ellis,
Television Personalities,
Banda Bassotti,
Althea and Donna,
Gang of Four,
June Days,
MDC,
Glambeats Corp.,
Chrome,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roxette,
kango's stein massive,
The Dirtbombs,
Morten Harket,
Scratch Acid,
CMW,
Royal Trux,
Arcadia,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alison Limerick,
The Last Poets,
The Names,
Bang On A Can,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Peter and Kerry,
Joe Smooth,
John Coltrane,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bill Near,
Essential Logic,
The Star Department,
Janne Schatter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fad Gadget,
Bronski Beat,
Scion,
Gang Starr,
Index,
the Soft Cell,
Wolf Eyes,
Inner City,
Curtis Mayfield,
Can,
The Moody Blues,
Girls At Our Best!,
Arthur Verocai,
DJ Style,
Kas Product,
the Sonics,
Mandrill,
MC5,
Kurtis Blow,
Stereo Dub,
Sun Ra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.