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 Spain and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bang On A Can to the grunge 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scion,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Tremeloes,
The Victims,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Buckinghams,
Stetsasonic,
Simply Red,
Black Bananas,
Dual Sessions,
Joensuu 1685,
Bush Tetras,
the Normal,
MC5,
Amazonics,
The Wake,
Quadrant,
The United States of America,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dawn Penn,
Jandek,
Wire,
Thompson Twins,
Man Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
a-ha,
Derrick Morgan,
Tim Buckley,
Jawbox,
FM Einheit,
Camberwell Now,
Subhumans,
The Beau Brummels,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Alarm Clocks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aural Exciters,
Sarah Menescal,
The Misunderstood,
Suburban Knight,
World's Most,
Marvin Gaye,
Fugazi,
Neu!,
Minny Pops,
Joey Negro,
Pagans,
Warsaw,
One Last Wish,
the Slits,
X-101,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deakin,
Von Mondo,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Görl,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Das Ding,
Leonard Cohen,
Royal Trux,
Quantec,
China Crisis,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.