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 Tunisia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin 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 Qualms to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Bad Manners,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camberwell Now,
Loose Ends,
Duran Duran,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Arthur Verocai,
Boredoms,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ponytail,
Porter Ricks,
Flipper,
Albert Ayler,
the Human League,
The Gladiators,
Pulsallama,
Faust,
Spoonie Gee,
Amon Düül,
Vainqueur,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Standells,
ABC,
The Trojans,
Swell Maps,
The Golliwogs,
Electric Prunes,
kango's stein massive,
Harmonia,
Prince Buster,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Little Man,
The Cramps,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bronski Beat,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Slackers,
The Offenders,
Anakelly,
Mo-Dettes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
H. Thieme,
The Red Krayola,
The Blackbyrds,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pere Ubu,
World's Most,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wings,
The Index,
The Leaves,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Ten City,
Marmalade,
Barry Ungar,
Aural Exciters,
The Dead C,
The Knickerbockers,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Moleskins,
Quadrant,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.