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 Czech Republic and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe 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 Boogie Down Productions to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
The Beau Brummels,
Spoonie Gee,
Tears for Fears,
T. Rex,
Marine Girls,
The Move,
Camouflage,
Black Sheep,
Darondo,
Fluxion,
Roxy Music,
Minnie Riperton,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rosa Yemen,
Lucky Dragons,
Minor Threat,
Kevin Saunderson,
Los Fastidios,
Flamin' Groovies,
Y Pants,
Guru Guru,
cv313,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rapeman,
Boredoms,
Cybotron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Standells,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gichy Dan,
Nils Olav,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Excepter,
Soul II Soul,
The Fuzztones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Slave,
Depeche Mode,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pole,
Toni Rubio,
Reagan Youth,
Wings,
ABC,
Amazonics,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eddi Front,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Al Stewart,
Kurtis Blow,
Rotary Connection,
Gang Green,
Bill Near,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.