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 Lesotho and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scan 7,
John Cale,
The Moleskins,
These Immortal Souls,
Minor Threat,
The Divine Comedy,
Pole,
The Pop Group,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeff Mills,
The Trojans,
Donny Hathaway,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Sonics,
Lou Christie,
Dead Boys,
Sugar Minott,
Wolf Eyes,
Youth Brigade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delta 5,
The Gun Club,
Rod Modell,
Alphaville,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Buzzcocks,
the Sonics,
John Lydon,
Mission of Burma,
John Holt,
Royal Trux,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Golliwogs,
Nico,
The Kinks,
The Grass Roots,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mo-Dettes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Anakelly,
Slave,
Black Moon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
kango's stein massive,
Massinfluence,
Desert Stars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
UT,
Aswad,
The Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
KRS-One,
the Slits,
Neil Young,
Cymande,
Joey Negro,
Nik Kershaw,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.