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 South Sudan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the jazz 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Bluetip,
Second Layer,
Erasure,
Mantronix,
Qualms,
Warsaw,
Pagans,
Pere Ubu,
Wings,
Ronan,
Josef K,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Public Enemy,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Victims,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cameo,
The Trojans,
Stetsasonic,
Outsiders,
Niagra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Depeche Mode,
Gong,
Donny Hathaway,
Crash Course in Science,
Joy Division,
The Moody Blues,
Archie Shepp,
Model 500,
Al Stewart,
The Motions,
The Grass Roots,
Stockholm Monsters,
Brothers Johnson,
Mars,
KRS-One,
The Gladiators,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Happenings,
Wire,
Roy Ayers,
Dennis Brown,
The Last Poets,
The Raincoats,
Scott Walker,
Interpol,
Dual Sessions,
The Dead C,
New Order,
Lower 48,
OOIOO,
David Bowie,
Youth Brigade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Maurizio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gun Club,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.