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 Indonesia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar 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 Anthony Braxton to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalann,
Quando Quango,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MDC,
Television,
June of 44,
The Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy,
Hot Snakes,
T. Rex,
FM Einheit,
Reagan Youth,
The Toasters,
The Fall,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jeff Lynne,
New York Dolls,
Eurythmics,
Silicon Teens,
Yaz,
Alton Ellis,
Skaos,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Essential Logic,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Sheep,
Scott Walker,
Malaria!,
Lungfish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scratch Acid,
Siglo XX,
Deadbeat,
Bauhaus,
Juan Atkins,
Skriet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Echospace,
the Bar-Kays,
Buzzcocks,
Mr. Review,
Ronnie Foster,
Little Man,
Saccharine Trust,
Ken Boothe,
Das Ding,
Wings,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Flash Fearless,
Soft Cell,
Archie Shepp,
Swell Maps,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marcia Griffiths,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.