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 Honduras and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
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 Nile Rodgers 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 Joe Finger to the punk 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
The New Christs,
The Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
World's Most,
Neil Young,
The Divine Comedy,
Pierre Henry,
Man Parrish,
Half Japanese,
The Standells,
Peter & Gordon,
Nils Olav,
Electric Prunes,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Normal,
David Axelrod,
Roy Ayers,
The Smoke,
Yellowson,
Jawbox,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Whodini,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Amon Düül,
Anakelly,
Pharoah Sanders,
Zapp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
These Immortal Souls,
Interpol,
Reagan Youth,
The Names,
Mission of Burma,
Scott Walker,
New Order,
Black Flag,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minnie Riperton,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Von Mondo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Sherman,
Cymande,
The Busters,
Neu!,
The J.B.'s,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mr. Review,
Moby Grape,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harmonia,
Hasil Adkins,
OOIOO,
Albert Ayler,
Ultra Naté,
Black Sheep,
Godley & Creme,
Rekid,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.