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 Djibouti and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Barbara Tucker to the disco 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Tres Demented,
Tears for Fears,
the Slits,
Scan 7,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grauzone,
Sixth Finger,
Qualms,
John Lydon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eurythmics,
Sun City Girls,
Ice-T,
Scratch Acid,
Ultra Naté,
Sight & Sound,
D'Angelo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ten City,
Wolf Eyes,
Icehouse,
Lower 48,
Marine Girls,
Mandrill,
Neil Young,
Joe Finger,
Gichy Dan,
The Busters,
Sam Rivers,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Byrd,
Vainqueur,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aaron Thompson,
K-Klass,
Quantec,
Arab on Radar,
Joe Smooth,
The Leaves,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Pretty Things,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Star Department,
ABBA,
Howard Jones,
Gil Scott Heron,
China Crisis,
Pere Ubu,
MC5,
Flipper,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kaleidoscope,
Josef K,
The Fugs,
Barry Ungar,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Audionom,
Wire,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.