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 Mongolia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Saccharine Trust to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Throbbing Gristle,
Boredoms,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Lynne,
Graham Central Station,
Spoonie Gee,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Sherman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Los Fastidios,
Alton Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DNA,
Flash Fearless,
Circle Jerks,
Ossler,
Susan Cadogan,
Dead Boys,
Amazonics,
Kenny Larkin,
Desert Stars,
Scion,
Heaven 17,
Jacob Miller,
Josef K,
The Stooges,
Aswad,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Supertramp,
Erykah Badu,
The Happenings,
Reagan Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yusef Lateef,
PIL,
Khruangbin,
Black Pus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Young Rascals,
Fad Gadget,
Main Source,
Magma,
The Neon Judgement,
Duran Duran,
Rosa Yemen,
Harmonia,
June Days,
The Selecter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Metal Thangz,
Albert Ayler,
Eve St. Jones,
The Martian,
Brick,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.