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 Cameroon and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Shanghai.
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 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 Soul II Soul to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
The Music Machine,
Blake Baxter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cal Tjader,
The Stooges,
Make Up,
Sun City Girls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lightning Bolt,
CMW,
Franke,
Half Japanese,
Pulsallama,
These Immortal Souls,
Kurtis Blow,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barrington Levy,
Los Fastidios,
Fugazi,
Deakin,
Gichy Dan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Davy DMX,
Michelle Simonal,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
World's Most,
Bill Near,
Lou Christie,
Marcia Griffiths,
Todd Rundgren,
Stetsasonic,
Hasil Adkins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marmalade,
Bad Manners,
Altered Images,
John Holt,
Charles Mingus,
The Last Poets,
Bauhaus,
the Normal,
Man Parrish,
Outsiders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Sheep,
Howard Jones,
The Misunderstood,
the Human League,
the Association,
Warsaw,
The Cramps,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boredoms,
Pole,
Harry Pussy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Aural Exciters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Monks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.