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 Taiwan and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Count Five 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bootsy Collins,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dirtbombs,
Minutemen,
The Move,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scratch Acid,
Lalann,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gang Green,
Surgeon,
Pierre Henry,
Los Fastidios,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minor Threat,
Ronan,
A Certain Ratio,
Circle Jerks,
Wire,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dawn Penn,
Public Image Ltd.,
Procol Harum,
Ohio Players,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Blues Magoos,
Funkadelic,
Saccharine Trust,
Terry Callier,
Eve St. Jones,
Bronski Beat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Siglo XX,
Banda Bassotti,
Amazonics,
The Star Department,
James White and The Blacks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eli Mardock,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Trumans Water,
The Electric Prunes,
PIL,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Barracudas,
Nik Kershaw,
Pantaleimon,
Kayak,
The Fugs,
The Monks,
The Wake,
Reagan Youth,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.