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 Tunisia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Monochrome Set,
The Tremeloes,
Camberwell Now,
Amon Düül II,
Qualms,
The Electric Prunes,
Magazine,
The Cramps,
James White and The Blacks,
Wally Richardson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Association,
Piero Umiliani,
Fugazi,
Sam Rivers,
DNA,
48th St. Collective,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Q and Not U,
Simply Red,
Peter & Gordon,
Junior Murvin,
F. McDonald,
Roxy Music,
Byron Stingily,
Parry Music,
Flipper,
The Young Rascals,
U.S. Maple,
Moby Grape,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Country Teasers,
Echospace,
Jandek,
Harpers Bizarre,
a-ha,
The Grass Roots,
Deadbeat,
John Lydon,
Gang Green,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fugs,
The Last Poets,
Crispian St. Peters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hot Snakes,
Arab on Radar,
New Order,
Mr. Review,
Eric Dolphy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quadrant,
Fluxion,
Graham Central Station,
Siglo XX,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.