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 Tonga and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 Mr. Review to the rock 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
T. Rex,
Stockholm Monsters,
Adolescents,
Marc Almond,
Urselle,
Charles Mingus,
Ronan,
Livin' Joy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cluster,
Judy Mowatt,
Erasure,
Sister Nancy,
The Sonics,
Television Personalities,
Pere Ubu,
Scion,
The Cramps,
Niagra,
New York Dolls,
Inner City,
Stetsasonic,
Buzzcocks,
The Human League,
Massinfluence,
The Misunderstood,
The Evens,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scrapy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang of Four,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Metal Thangz,
Absolute Body Control,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amon Düül,
Lungfish,
The Pop Group,
Gabor Szabo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eve St. Jones,
Fluxion,
Marmalade,
Stiv Bators,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bob Dylan,
Eric Copeland,
X-Ray Spex,
Soft Cell,
Excepter,
Soulsonic Force,
the Normal,
Ten City,
Bootsy Collins,
Vainqueur,
Fat Boys,
The Cowsills,
Babytalk,
DJ Style,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.