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 Paraguay and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Amazonics,
The Residents,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tommy Roe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Quantec,
Erasure,
Jawbox,
Lungfish,
The New Christs,
Avey Tare,
Harry Pussy,
Bronski Beat,
Bill Wells,
These Immortal Souls,
The Birthday Party,
Glenn Branca,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nick Fraelich,
Amon Düül II,
K-Klass,
Al Stewart,
Marc Almond,
The Young Rascals,
A Certain Ratio,
ABC,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Star Department,
David Axelrod,
The Sonics,
The Standells,
DJ Sneak,
Roxy Music,
Morten Harket,
Talk Talk,
Y Pants,
Rekid,
MDC,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Neon Judgement,
Joey Negro,
Althea and Donna,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sonny Sharrock,
Unwound,
Brothers Johnson,
Brick,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wally Richardson,
Pulsallama,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cybotron,
Faust,
Grandmaster Flash,
FM Einheit,
The Divine Comedy,
Funky Four + One,
Bizarre Inc.,
Model 500,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.