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 Iran and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Grey Daturas to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Bush Tetras,
Lungfish,
Junior Murvin,
Slick Rick,
Marmalade,
Depeche Mode,
Motorama,
Gang Gang Dance,
David McCallum,
Wasted Youth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Young Marble Giants,
the Normal,
The Martian,
Johnny Clarke,
Darondo,
Sun City Girls,
Amon Düül II,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tom Boy,
MC5,
Kerri Chandler,
Hardrive,
The American Breed,
The Blackbyrds,
Connie Case,
The Red Krayola,
The Invisible,
Schoolly D,
The Dirtbombs,
kango's stein massive,
Zapp,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Chris Corsano,
Glenn Branca,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Victims,
Roxy Music,
Circle Jerks,
June of 44,
Warsaw,
Visage,
Basic Channel,
Cluster,
Desert Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Michelle Simonal,
Buzzcocks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Public Enemy,
Roxette,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kurtis Blow,
Oneida,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Reed,
Lucky Dragons,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.