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 Samoa and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Stereo Dub,
E-Dancer,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roy Ayers,
Fear,
Bobby Womack,
The Offenders,
John Lydon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultra Naté,
10cc,
John Foxx,
Tomorrow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Normal,
The Gun Club,
The Moleskins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Main Source,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultravox,
Motorama,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fat Boys,
Panda Bear,
Supertramp,
Drive Like Jehu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Theoretical Girls,
Tres Demented,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Real Kids,
cv313,
Sugar Minott,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Subhumans,
The Gladiators,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
Zero Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott Heron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Josef K,
Robert Hood,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pulsallama,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pere Ubu,
The Human League,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roger Hodgson,
X-102,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.