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 Egypt and from Taipei.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Aaron Thompson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Sparks,
Roxette,
Bootsy Collins,
Scion,
Matthew Bourne,
The American Breed,
Easy Going,
Bush Tetras,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Zeros,
the Association,
Arab on Radar,
The Real Kids,
Rites of Spring,
Pussy Galore,
Severed Heads,
Piero Umiliani,
Altered Images,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Drexciya,
Zero Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lindisfarne,
The Moody Blues,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Loose Ends,
Magazine,
Sex Pistols,
Country Teasers,
Minnie Riperton,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soft Cell,
Dead Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
Arthur Verocai,
Bluetip,
The Index,
Deakin,
Tubeway Army,
Pierre Henry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eden Ahbez,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aloha Tigers,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Toasters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Don Cherry,
Anakelly,
Slave,
Monks,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Invisible,
Popol Vuh,
Goldenarms,
Q and Not U,
Panda Bear,
Steve Hackett,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.