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 Somalia and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Chris Corsano to the funk 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Skaos,
Hot Snakes,
Ronnie Foster,
The Busters,
The Smoke,
Popol Vuh,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Masters at Work,
Marine Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang Starr,
Youth Brigade,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
JFA,
Tim Buckley,
Scrapy,
The Cowsills,
Scratch Acid,
The Velvet Underground,
This Heat,
Piero Umiliani,
Jeff Mills,
Pere Ubu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pharoah Sanders,
Graham Central Station,
Andrew Hill,
Roger Hodgson,
Warsaw,
Absolute Body Control,
Freddie Wadling,
Colin Newman,
Joe Finger,
The Saints,
Alton Ellis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aloha Tigers,
The Moody Blues,
Underground Resistance,
Patti Smith,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Normal,
Carl Craig,
Goldenarms,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
MDC,
Sällskapet,
Minny Pops,
Joyce Sims,
Nick Fraelich,
Outsiders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Raincoats,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül,
Marmalade,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.