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 Samoa and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Glenn Branca to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
the Sonics,
Agent Orange,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols,
Model 500,
Alison Limerick,
Thee Headcoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Cybotron,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Wake,
DNA,
Quando Quango,
Swans,
Mandrill,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
Saccharine Trust,
The Toasters,
Con Funk Shun,
Thompson Twins,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultra Naté,
The Last Poets,
Electric Light Orchestra,
MC5,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moebius,
Audionom,
The Stooges,
The Buckinghams,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Tremeloes,
The New Christs,
Faust,
Yazoo,
June of 44,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Icehouse,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Organ,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Busters,
Piero Umiliani,
Joyce Sims,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Donny Hathaway,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tomorrow,
Desert Stars,
Radiohead,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gun Club,
Ultravox,
Theoretical Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Surgeon,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.