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 Barbados and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 David Bowie 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 Tres Demented to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eden Ahbez,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang Green,
Dead Boys,
The Toasters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Aaron Thompson,
The Smoke,
The Electric Prunes,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare,
John Lydon,
Hashim,
Ice-T,
Nas,
Y Pants,
Massinfluence,
Vladislav Delay,
Symarip,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Slits,
The Skatalites,
Toni Rubio,
Black Flag,
48th St. Collective,
the Association,
Crispy Ambulance,
U.S. Maple,
The Black Dice,
Neu!,
Brothers Johnson,
Harmonia,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cybotron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
PIL,
Wire,
Mars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Talk Talk,
Supertramp,
ABBA,
Sandy B,
the Swans,
Audionom,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ludus,
Robert Görl,
Todd Rundgren,
Fugazi,
Adolescents,
Henry Cow,
Wally Richardson,
Jeff Lynne,
Jeff Mills,
Alton Ellis,
Von Mondo,
Ultravox,
Byron Stingily,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.