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 Montenegro and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 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 Slick Rick 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 Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
The Cure,
Chris Corsano,
The Gories,
Babytalk,
Pagans,
The Fugs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wings,
Danielle Patucci,
Kayak,
The Fuzztones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barrington Levy,
Q65,
The Happenings,
Roger Hodgson,
John Coltrane,
Organ,
Pole,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Germs,
Andrew Hill,
The Neon Judgement,
Clear Light,
Agitation Free,
Grey Daturas,
The Dead C,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Motorama,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Misunderstood,
Peter and Kerry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
These Immortal Souls,
Tubeway Army,
Crooked Eye,
The Pretty Things,
H. Thieme,
EPMD,
The Techniques,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arcadia,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Warsaw,
The J.B.'s,
Amon Düül,
a-ha,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Technova,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scott Walker,
F. McDonald,
Unrelated Segments,
David McCallum,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sex Pistols,
Harmonia,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dirtbombs,
Masters at Work,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.