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 Tuvalu and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 Swell Maps to the punk 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Lou Christie,
The Mojo Men,
Harmonia,
Wasted Youth,
Agitation Free,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Golliwogs,
Unwound,
Aural Exciters,
Sam Rivers,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dead C,
Gichy Dan,
Arab on Radar,
T. Rex,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Monochrome Set,
Flash Fearless,
Minor Threat,
Organ,
Motorama,
Ossler,
The Fire Engines,
Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Toni Rubio,
Scientists,
Thee Headcoats,
R.M.O.,
Dead Boys,
the Swans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
David Bowie,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dirtbombs,
The Human League,
Tears for Fears,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Siglo XX,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marc Almond,
Cameo,
Mo-Dettes,
Nik Kershaw,
Ituana,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hardrive,
Marine Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Slick Rick,
Metal Thangz,
Marvin Gaye,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.