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 Bangladesh and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Kevin Saunderson to the crunk 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Quadrant,
The Cramps,
Moebius,
Ohio Players,
Eurythmics,
Von Mondo,
Robert Hood,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lou Reed,
Livin' Joy,
Qualms,
Wasted Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bob Dylan,
Ponytail,
Sun Ra,
Eddi Front,
Ossler,
The Invisible,
Max Romeo,
Infiniti,
Harmonia,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Man Eating Sloth,
Maleditus Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Holt,
Unrelated Segments,
Youth Brigade,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marine Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roxy Music,
Slick Rick,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dawn Penn,
Reagan Youth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Magma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jandek,
The Leaves,
Todd Rundgren,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Christie,
Icehouse,
Sonny Sharrock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tubeway Army,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Trojans,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suburban Knight,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Pus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.