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 China and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Sound Behaviour to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Swans,
Girls At Our Best!,
The New Christs,
Mars,
Saccharine Trust,
Albert Ayler,
The Mojo Men,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Near,
Excepter,
Sam Rivers,
Scion,
Liliput,
Agent Orange,
Johnny Clarke,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Moon,
The Index,
Stiv Bators,
Lakeside,
Scott Walker,
Brick,
Black Flag,
The Offenders,
Los Fastidios,
Vladislav Delay,
R.M.O.,
The Count Five,
The Divine Comedy,
The Litter,
John Foxx,
Althea and Donna,
Delon & Dalcan,
Maleditus Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joy Division,
Ultra Naté,
Mo-Dettes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bizarre Inc.,
Terry Callier,
Chris Corsano,
Faust,
Prince Buster,
Sällskapet,
The Knickerbockers,
Easy Going,
Rites of Spring,
Jeff Mills,
Blossom Toes,
Pussy Galore,
Dark Day,
John Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
The Monks,
Simply Red,
Marvin Gaye,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.