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 Equatorial Guinea and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Pagans to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
The Raincoats,
Royal Trux,
Symarip,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Moon,
New Age Steppers,
Porter Ricks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Drexciya,
DJ Sneak,
Ronnie Foster,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cluster,
Magma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mad Mike,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bill Near,
June Days,
Wally Richardson,
The Neon Judgement,
Stereo Dub,
Gabor Szabo,
Oneida,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Star Department,
Lyres,
The Monks,
Skriet,
The Dirtbombs,
Roy Ayers,
Marvin Gaye,
Agent Orange,
Donald Byrd,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crash Course in Science,
Con Funk Shun,
Bush Tetras,
John Holt,
Scrapy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cymande,
The Move,
Camberwell Now,
Joyce Sims,
Ituana,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Chris & Cosey,
Joe Finger,
Quadrant,
Basic Channel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Pus,
June of 44,
Judy Mowatt,
Ralphi Rosario,
Morten Harket,
Kerrie Biddell,
Flash Fearless,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.