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 United Kingdom and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Animal Collective to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Fluxion,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dead Boys,
Dave Gahan,
The Red Krayola,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Depeche Mode,
Gong,
Angry Samoans,
Dark Day,
Hoover,
Main Source,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Derrick May,
Pussy Galore,
Iggy Pop,
Todd Terry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Accadde A,
Quantec,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Cale,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kerrie Biddell,
Theoretical Girls,
Deepchord,
UT,
Motorama,
The J.B.'s,
MDC,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Sonics,
Kaleidoscope,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cameo,
The Birthday Party,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Angels of Light,
Nico,
Schoolly D,
Chrome,
Radio Birdman,
Zapp,
David Bowie,
Second Layer,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mummies,
The Leaves,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Reed,
The Residents,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bang On A Can,
Sixth Finger,
Ronan,
Livin' Joy,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.