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 Equatorial Guinea and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin 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 Marvin Gaye to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Copeland,
New York Dolls,
Danielle Patucci,
Derrick May,
The Stooges,
The Fall,
Accadde A,
Vainqueur,
Gregory Isaacs,
Oneida,
Shuggie Otis,
New Order,
Mission of Burma,
Kayak,
Scientists,
Peter and Kerry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Monks,
Rotary Connection,
Funky Four + One,
Eric B and Rakim,
Maleditus Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amazonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Durutti Column,
K-Klass,
The Techniques,
Warsaw,
Gang of Four,
Boredoms,
Barbara Tucker,
Camberwell Now,
The Real Kids,
Patti Smith,
L. Decosne,
Pantaleimon,
The Litter,
Marcia Griffiths,
Arthur Verocai,
Joey Negro,
Stiv Bators,
The Star Department,
Roger Hodgson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cymande,
Juan Atkins,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mary Jane Girls,
Malaria!,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kaleidoscope,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantytec,
Pere Ubu,
Mantronix,
Sound Behaviour,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wally Richardson,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.