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 Papua New Guinea and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Robert Palmer 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 Lightning Bolt to the punk 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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Human League,
Von Mondo,
Camouflage,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zapp,
Slave,
Warren Ellis,
Magma,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Cramps,
Dead Boys,
Gang Starr,
Intrusion,
R.M.O.,
Popol Vuh,
The Standells,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Style,
Brothers Johnson,
Moss Icon,
The Fire Engines,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bush Tetras,
Sandy B,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Absolute Body Control,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marine Girls,
Loose Ends,
Cybotron,
Harmonia,
The Smoke,
Funkadelic,
The Blackbyrds,
The Invisible,
Black Flag,
Bad Manners,
Donald Byrd,
David Bowie,
Scan 7,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Q65,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Residents,
Nico,
Franke,
Judy Mowatt,
Fad Gadget,
Gerry Rafferty,
Talk Talk,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gap Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Anthony Braxton,
Surgeon,
Groovy Waters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Maurizio,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.