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 Andorra and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Sandy B to the grime 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Joe Finger,
Anthony Braxton,
Girls At Our Best!,
Panda Bear,
Amazonics,
Funkadelic,
Agitation Free,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skarface,
Lou Christie,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sällskapet,
X-101,
kango's stein massive,
Black Flag,
Terry Callier,
Barry Ungar,
Bauhaus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Wyatt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Searchers,
Main Source,
Harmonia,
PIL,
Chris Corsano,
Minny Pops,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sarah Menescal,
Index,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
EPMD,
One Last Wish,
Vainqueur,
Rotary Connection,
Ice-T,
Crispian St. Peters,
Urselle,
Livin' Joy,
B.T. Express,
Tom Boy,
cv313,
The Litter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dead Boys,
The Gladiators,
Jerry's Kids,
Connie Case,
Brick,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Last Poets,
Gang Starr,
The Gun Club,
Cecil Taylor,
Groovy Waters,
Sight & Sound,
Motorama,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.