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 Mauritania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar 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 K-Klass to the punk 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
The Vogues,
Whodini,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Foxx,
Radio Birdman,
Blake Baxter,
The Black Dice,
Gichy Dan,
Swell Maps,
Marc Almond,
Essential Logic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tom Boy,
Thompson Twins,
Reuben Wilson,
Metal Thangz,
Make Up,
The Mummies,
DJ Style,
Trumans Water,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Byrd,
Oneida,
The Sound,
The Leaves,
Scan 7,
Eddi Front,
Eurythmics,
B.T. Express,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fugazi,
John Coltrane,
Second Layer,
Idris Muhammad,
Talk Talk,
The Moleskins,
MDC,
The Music Machine,
Quantec,
Robert Hood,
Circle Jerks,
In Retrospect,
The Monochrome Set,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Clear Light,
Fat Boys,
U.S. Maple,
Lightning Bolt,
Yazoo,
The Dead C,
Morten Harket,
Jandek,
The Electric Prunes,
Lyres,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Flag,
Amon Düül II,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.