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 South Africa and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Alphaville,
Pierre Henry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Sonics,
Zero Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skriet,
Minutemen,
Junior Murvin,
Black Sheep,
The Sonics,
Q65,
Aloha Tigers,
Von Mondo,
Gang Starr,
Roxy Music,
Yaz,
Reagan Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Byrd,
Lalann,
Jeff Lynne,
Ossler,
Public Enemy,
K-Klass,
Depeche Mode,
Newcleus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bang On A Can,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thompson Twins,
Blancmange,
Colin Newman,
Nirvana,
Accadde A,
Ludus,
the Germs,
Interpol,
Arab on Radar,
H. Thieme,
Q and Not U,
Tears for Fears,
Fugazi,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New York Dolls,
Quando Quango,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kenny Larkin,
Thee Headcoats,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Todd Terry,
the Slits,
Mark Hollis,
Howard Jones,
Chris Corsano,
Marvin Gaye,
Schoolly D,
Simply Red,
The Smoke,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.