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 Brunei and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 Jeru the Damaja to the dance 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Aloha Tigers,
The Neon Judgement,
U.S. Maple,
Hot Snakes,
The Shadows of Knight,
kango's stein massive,
Sugar Minott,
Nils Olav,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Reuben Wilson,
Glenn Branca,
Juan Atkins,
Camouflage,
Tom Boy,
Slick Rick,
David Bowie,
Tim Buckley,
Swans,
Jacques Brel,
Motorama,
Von Mondo,
Mandrill,
Bronski Beat,
Spoonie Gee,
Eli Mardock,
The Saints,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Names,
This Heat,
Groovy Waters,
8 Eyed Spy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rekid,
The Modern Lovers,
Saccharine Trust,
Dave Gahan,
New York Dolls,
Frankie Knuckles,
48th St. Collective,
Carl Craig,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arcadia,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Dawn Penn,
The Velvet Underground,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Christie,
JFA,
Byron Stingily,
Das Ding,
Negative Approach,
Mars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Pus,
Donny Hathaway,
Brothers Johnson,
F. McDonald,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rapeman,
B.T. Express,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monks,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.