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 Qatar and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Suicide to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Motorama,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Judy Mowatt,
The Five Americans,
Al Stewart,
Deadbeat,
Scrapy,
Whodini,
Camberwell Now,
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Hill,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ponytail,
The Seeds,
Ornette Coleman,
The Index,
Q65,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
James White and The Blacks,
Vainqueur,
New York Dolls,
Can,
The Blues Magoos,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sparks,
Heaven 17,
kango's stein massive,
Tres Demented,
Subhumans,
John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
The Offenders,
Outsiders,
Con Funk Shun,
the Sonics,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter and Kerry,
Jawbox,
DNA,
Neil Young,
the Normal,
Siglo XX,
Skarface,
MDC,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
F. McDonald,
Agitation Free,
Faust,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
JFA,
Lyres,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tom Boy,
Janne Schatter,
Archie Shepp,
New Age Steppers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.