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 Tajikistan and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Index to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
In Retrospect,
Underground Resistance,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Prince Buster,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Swans,
Blossom Toes,
The Divine Comedy,
Outsiders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Absolute Body Control,
Jacob Miller,
Pere Ubu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Moody Blues,
One Last Wish,
Jandek,
Alton Ellis,
Scrapy,
The Remains,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tom Boy,
Urselle,
E-Dancer,
The Human League,
Simply Red,
Index,
Clear Light,
X-102,
Khruangbin,
Bill Wells,
Skriet,
New Age Steppers,
Harmonia,
Subhumans,
Aswad,
Animal Collective,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blake Baxter,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sound,
Sun Ra,
Audionom,
Panda Bear,
Matthew Bourne,
Buzzcocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oneida,
Eurythmics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dave Gahan,
Kerri Chandler,
The Five Americans,
the Slits,
The Raincoats,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sam Rivers,
Intrusion,
The Seeds,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.