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 Micronesia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 The Fuzztones to the grime 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Slave,
Bootsy Collins,
Brass Construction,
Grauzone,
Wings,
New Age Steppers,
The Cramps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dark Day,
Andrew Hill,
Monks,
Eddi Front,
Scion,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ornette Coleman,
Silicon Teens,
John Holt,
Main Source,
Excepter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Organ,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
F. McDonald,
Yazoo,
Brick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cameo,
Hot Snakes,
Alphaville,
Black Moon,
Robert Wyatt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Absolute Body Control,
Loose Ends,
Anthony Braxton,
Spoonie Gee,
Minutemen,
Black Bananas,
K-Klass,
The Shadows of Knight,
48th St. Collective,
The Beau Brummels,
Fela Kuti,
Franke,
Lakeside,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joe Smooth,
June of 44,
Model 500,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Angry Samoans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amon Düül,
Pulsallama,
John Cale,
The Human League,
Reagan Youth,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.