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 Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Modern Lovers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Cymande,
Lyres,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roxy Music,
Shoche,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scott Walker,
Vladislav Delay,
Blossom Toes,
Agitation Free,
The Searchers,
The Zeros,
Moss Icon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Morten Harket,
Accadde A,
Monks,
Main Source,
John Coltrane,
Drexciya,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Duran Duran,
Pantytec,
Oneida,
kango's stein massive,
Simply Red,
ABBA,
Roy Ayers,
Isaac Hayes,
Wolf Eyes,
Liliput,
Scan 7,
The New Christs,
Urselle,
Marine Girls,
The Slackers,
The Associates,
AZ,
Marmalade,
Junior Murvin,
Gang Starr,
Make Up,
Moby Grape,
Easy Going,
The Victims,
Barry Ungar,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Tremeloes,
Cecil Taylor,
Brothers Johnson,
Thompson Twins,
The Fuzztones,
Section 25,
Harry Pussy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Television,
48th St. Collective,
The American Breed,
Lee Hazlewood,
Royal Trux,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.