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 Eritrea 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 David Bowie 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 The Dirtbombs to the rap 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
The Count Five,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Grauzone,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thee Headcoats,
Popol Vuh,
The Litter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Icehouse,
Carl Craig,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Reagan Youth,
MC5,
Brick,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
R.M.O.,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Saints,
Donny Hathaway,
Lakeside,
Andrew Hill,
Joyce Sims,
Drexciya,
Slave,
The Velvet Underground,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Five Americans,
Rakim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Steve Hackett,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mission of Burma,
Inner City,
Robert Wyatt,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Slits,
T. Rex,
Todd Rundgren,
Bill Near,
Joey Negro,
Scion,
Desert Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Theoretical Girls,
Ludus,
Al Stewart,
Tom Boy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Invisible,
Crispian St. Peters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Seeds,
PIL,
New Age Steppers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Magazine,
Sister Nancy,
Scrapy,
Matthew Halsall,
The Victims,
Sixth Finger,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.