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 Suriname and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Flamin' Groovies to the grime 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Rites of Spring,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cramps,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gun Club,
Maleditus Sound,
Royal Trux,
Desert Stars,
Minutemen,
Hot Snakes,
Ken Boothe,
The Residents,
Rod Modell,
Sandy B,
Kevin Saunderson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nick Fraelich,
Altered Images,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mission of Burma,
Marcia Griffiths,
Henry Cow,
ABBA,
The Slits,
Supertramp,
Eurythmics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brass Construction,
Juan Atkins,
Silicon Teens,
Tom Boy,
The Smoke,
Gabor Szabo,
Yellowson,
Slave,
Crispian St. Peters,
Q and Not U,
Roxy Music,
Panda Bear,
Fela Kuti,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Byrd,
EPMD,
The J.B.'s,
MC5,
The Mojo Men,
Reagan Youth,
Soft Machine,
The Toasters,
Nirvana,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dual Sessions,
This Heat,
Alice Coltrane,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fire Engines,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roger Hodgson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.