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 Niger and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 organ 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 Shoche to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
New York Dolls,
H. Thieme,
Donny Hathaway,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Loose Ends,
Hardrive,
Swans,
EPMD,
Bobby Womack,
Newcleus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Evens,
Erasure,
Monolake,
Peter & Gordon,
Idris Muhammad,
Pantaleimon,
John Coltrane,
Radiohead,
Ornette Coleman,
The Star Department,
Ice-T,
Ponytail,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tom Boy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Funky Four + One,
Neil Young,
Roxy Music,
Man Parrish,
Cluster,
The Martian,
DJ Style,
Angry Samoans,
Scientists,
The Pretty Things,
Camouflage,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Real Kids,
the Human League,
Icehouse,
Todd Rundgren,
Buzzcocks,
Scott Walker,
Sugar Minott,
Crime,
Bauhaus,
the Germs,
Ludus,
The Last Poets,
The Slits,
Bobby Sherman,
Sparks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rosa Yemen,
Al Stewart,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.