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 Sweden and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro 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 Deepchord to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Tubeway Army,
Mantronix,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
Thee Headcoats,
Glenn Branca,
Eve St. Jones,
Mr. Review,
the Normal,
Das Ding,
The New Christs,
Chris & Cosey,
Basic Channel,
Junior Murvin,
Skriet,
Byron Stingily,
Morten Harket,
Livin' Joy,
Young Marble Giants,
Reuben Wilson,
Kurtis Blow,
Niagra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Youth Brigade,
Negative Approach,
Neil Young,
Unwound,
Minny Pops,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Slick Rick,
Boredoms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Archie Shepp,
Oneida,
Amon Düül,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Q65,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Golliwogs,
ABC,
The Offenders,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Alice Coltrane,
Angry Samoans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Christie,
Sun Ra,
Japan,
Roxy Music,
The Doors,
Can,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Invisible,
The Angels of Light,
Pere Ubu,
Pussy Galore,
Patti Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.