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 Uzbekistan and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Blackbyrds to the funk 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
PIL,
Rites of Spring,
Todd Rundgren,
Index,
EPMD,
John Holt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ornette Coleman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
These Immortal Souls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deadbeat,
Thee Headcoats,
Amon Düül II,
Donald Byrd,
Jacques Brel,
the Germs,
Crash Course in Science,
U.S. Maple,
Skriet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Slits,
Kurtis Blow,
Aural Exciters,
DJ Style,
Pole,
Little Man,
Brand Nubian,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tubeway Army,
Eurythmics,
Au Pairs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Al Stewart,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Womack,
Wire,
Man Parrish,
Circle Jerks,
The United States of America,
Albert Ayler,
Monks,
Eric Dolphy,
Television,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
DNA,
Reuben Wilson,
X-Ray Spex,
Ludus,
The Black Dice,
Patti Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wally Richardson,
Max Romeo,
Ultra Naté,
DJ Sneak,
Hardrive,
The Evens,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.