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 Cambodia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Joensuu 1685 to the rap 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Jacques Brel,
Quadrant,
Boz Scaggs,
Unwound,
The Selecter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joey Negro,
June Days,
Lebanon Hanover,
Delta 5,
Donald Byrd,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gladiators,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Josef K,
Bill Wells,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare,
The Invisible,
the Association,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Visage,
Funky Four + One,
Icehouse,
Wasted Youth,
Television,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Raincoats,
Ultravox,
Bobby Byrd,
Anthony Braxton,
Popol Vuh,
The Fugs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Todd Rundgren,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jeff Mills,
Saccharine Trust,
DJ Style,
James White and The Blacks,
David Axelrod,
Scratch Acid,
Radiopuhelimet,
Godley & Creme,
Freddie Wadling,
The Associates,
Deadbeat,
ABC,
Bob Dylan,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Seeds,
Altered Images,
Lungfish,
Steve Hackett,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barbara Tucker,
Faraquet,
Shuggie Otis,
Blake Baxter,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.