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 Burkina and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the snare 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 Boredoms to the grunge 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
The Five Americans,
Connie Case,
Frankie Knuckles,
T.S.O.L.,
Excepter,
The Grass Roots,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Germs,
The Zeros,
Wire,
Dennis Brown,
Johnny Osbourne,
Albert Ayler,
Fat Boys,
Royal Trux,
The Fortunes,
Monolake,
Massinfluence,
Brass Construction,
Sparks,
Boredoms,
Roxette,
Funkadelic,
Susan Cadogan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Velvet Underground,
John Foxx,
Porter Ricks,
L. Decosne,
PIL,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Dirtbombs,
Byron Stingily,
Joensuu 1685,
Duran Duran,
The Standells,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fuzztones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Divine Comedy,
Faraquet,
Khruangbin,
The United States of America,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
UT,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crash Course in Science,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sonics,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Faust,
Suburban Knight,
the Association,
Masters at Work,
Spandau Ballet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tommy Roe,
The Mojo Men,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.