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 Colombia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Slave to the grunge 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cowsills,
the Soft Cell,
Thompson Twins,
The Index,
China Crisis,
The Modern Lovers,
Scan 7,
Television Personalities,
Quantec,
Morten Harket,
The Golliwogs,
Wolf Eyes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yazoo,
The Smoke,
The Five Americans,
a-ha,
Vladislav Delay,
The Motions,
48th St. Collective,
Howard Jones,
The Standells,
Barrington Levy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
Loose Ends,
Donald Byrd,
The Dead C,
Model 500,
These Immortal Souls,
John Lydon,
Junior Murvin,
The Pop Group,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Charles Mingus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moebius,
Glenn Branca,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultra Naté,
Rhythm & Sound,
Janne Schatter,
The Sonics,
Gang of Four,
Wasted Youth,
Minor Threat,
Sex Pistols,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Half Japanese,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Delta 5,
The Remains,
Skarface,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hot Snakes,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.