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 Saudi Arabia and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Outsiders to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Minutemen,
Sällskapet,
La Düsseldorf,
Camouflage,
The Five Americans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Delta 5,
Pere Ubu,
The Gun Club,
Harry Pussy,
Livin' Joy,
Simply Red,
Tom Boy,
Deakin,
The Standells,
New Order,
Sarah Menescal,
Qualms,
Fugazi,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sixth Finger,
Arab on Radar,
Electric Prunes,
Grey Daturas,
B.T. Express,
Black Bananas,
The Invisible,
This Heat,
Rapeman,
Symarip,
The Fall,
June of 44,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Newcleus,
Ken Boothe,
Flipper,
Ten City,
Theoretical Girls,
R.M.O.,
Sun Ra,
L. Decosne,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Mummies,
Arcadia,
Trumans Water,
Jesper Dahlback,
Radiopuhelimet,
Echospace,
Malaria!,
Minor Threat,
Sandy B,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siglo XX,
the Normal,
Marmalade,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.