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 Spain and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare 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 Simply Red to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Harmonia,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
AZ,
Robert Görl,
Todd Terry,
Quadrant,
Symarip,
The Raincoats,
This Heat,
Andrew Hill,
Ken Boothe,
The Walker Brothers,
New Order,
Althea and Donna,
Idris Muhammad,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
John Lydon,
The Birthday Party,
Whodini,
Alphaville,
The Stooges,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sparks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Rundgren,
Yazoo,
Sun City Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Simply Red,
Bill Near,
Radio Birdman,
Ultravox,
Monks,
Eve St. Jones,
Rod Modell,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eden Ahbez,
John Coltrane,
Tom Boy,
Jacques Brel,
Cheater Slicks,
LL Cool J,
Joyce Sims,
Maleditus Sound,
Pantaleimon,
the Association,
Spandau Ballet,
China Crisis,
In Retrospect,
Colin Newman,
Talk Talk,
Archie Shepp,
Niagra,
The Doors,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.