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 Vanuatu 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Jawbox 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
The Golliwogs,
Sonic Youth,
Maleditus Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Smog,
Mandrill,
Sarah Menescal,
The Remains,
Gang of Four,
Soft Cell,
Michelle Simonal,
Oblivians,
Dark Day,
Minutemen,
L. Decosne,
The Offenders,
Pere Ubu,
Arcadia,
the Bar-Kays,
The Busters,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Cure,
Lakeside,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brass Construction,
Quando Quango,
Jandek,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bizarre Inc.,
Severed Heads,
Nico,
Eric Dolphy,
Leonard Cohen,
June of 44,
Matthew Bourne,
Tim Buckley,
Desert Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sam Rivers,
K-Klass,
Thee Headcoats,
Albert Ayler,
Peter and Kerry,
Cecil Taylor,
ABC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kurtis Blow,
Pole,
Quantec,
The Gun Club,
The Sound,
Rites of Spring,
The Smiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jeff Lynne,
Darondo,
Joey Negro,
Fat Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.