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 Honduras and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord 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 Livin' Joy to the dance 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Cal Tjader,
Freddie Wadling,
KRS-One,
Magma,
Desert Stars,
Jacob Miller,
ABBA,
The Fire Engines,
Joensuu 1685,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Wake,
Symarip,
The Offenders,
The Pop Group,
The Seeds,
Robert Wyatt,
Stiv Bators,
Trumans Water,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Coltrane,
Zero Boys,
Parry Music,
Y Pants,
The Misunderstood,
Blossom Toes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Connie Case,
Bill Wells,
Khruangbin,
Lightning Bolt,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Smiths,
Brass Construction,
kango's stein massive,
Jeff Lynne,
Fela Kuti,
Andrew Hill,
Delta 5,
The Red Krayola,
Schoolly D,
Rufus Thomas,
Smog,
Aaron Thompson,
Alice Coltrane,
Gang Starr,
The Buckinghams,
The Slackers,
The American Breed,
F. McDonald,
Audionom,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Slits,
ABC,
Howard Jones,
Outsiders,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Can,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Moleskins,
Harry Pussy,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.