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 Paris.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fugazi to the jazz 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Style,
LL Cool J,
Sparks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Infiniti,
Steve Hackett,
Lalo Schifrin,
Altered Images,
Sam Rivers,
Nico,
Wings,
Janne Schatter,
Dead Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
Cymande,
The Five Americans,
John Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Mojo Men,
Make Up,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Outsiders,
June of 44,
The Neon Judgement,
Minny Pops,
Supertramp,
Marine Girls,
Q65,
Sun City Girls,
Soft Machine,
Pere Ubu,
The Gap Band,
Oblivians,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wasted Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobby Sherman,
Boz Scaggs,
K-Klass,
Mars,
The American Breed,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stiv Bators,
Basic Channel,
The Kinks,
Ornette Coleman,
Rekid,
Nik Kershaw,
Prince Buster,
Tom Boy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultravox,
Danielle Patucci,
Freddie Wadling,
Sällskapet,
Eric Dolphy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Knickerbockers,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.