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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Marine Girls,
Duran Duran,
The Count Five,
The Doobie Brothers,
Excepter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gap Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Eden Ahbez,
The Sound,
Talk Talk,
The Red Krayola,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fatback Band,
Procol Harum,
The Gun Club,
The Knickerbockers,
Marshall Jefferson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Soft Cell,
Deadbeat,
Boredoms,
Donald Byrd,
Sandy B,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Names,
Metal Thangz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Skaos,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang Starr,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nation of Ulysses,
Niagra,
The Index,
Kool Moe Dee,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
48th St. Collective,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lalann,
Organ,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Loose Ends,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Toasters,
Skarface,
Black Pus,
Ludus,
Josef K,
Hasil Adkins,
10cc,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lungfish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Danielle Patucci,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Michelle Simonal,
Terry Callier,
Qualms,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.