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 Belarus and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 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 Glenn Branca to the grunge 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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
The Buckinghams,
June of 44,
Camberwell Now,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dawn Penn,
Nation of Ulysses,
Anthony Braxton,
Eden Ahbez,
Suburban Knight,
Nik Kershaw,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alison Limerick,
Wolf Eyes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skriet,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-102,
Aural Exciters,
The Litter,
Depeche Mode,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dave Gahan,
Swell Maps,
Ultravox,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cybotron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Young Marble Giants,
Grauzone,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Modern Lovers,
Ronnie Foster,
Fluxion,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Popol Vuh,
Banda Bassotti,
Niagra,
Lou Christie,
John Coltrane,
Moss Icon,
Jawbox,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soul II Soul,
Eric Copeland,
The Fuzztones,
Glenn Branca,
Yaz,
The Trojans,
Vainqueur,
The Toasters,
Black Flag,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dead Boys,
David Axelrod,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Idris Muhammad,
Accadde A,
Country Teasers,
Drexciya,
The Doors,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.