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 Angola and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Stiv Bators to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Prince Buster,
Suburban Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nation of Ulysses,
Royal Trux,
Barbara Tucker,
Althea and Donna,
Deakin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonic Youth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bobby Sherman,
Procol Harum,
The Cosmic Jokers,
June Days,
The Mojo Men,
The Martian,
Infiniti,
Bootsy Collins,
Rakim,
The Toasters,
Sam Rivers,
Pantaleimon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scott Walker,
Leonard Cohen,
Wolf Eyes,
Babytalk,
Dark Day,
Max Romeo,
Qualms,
Das Ding,
Visage,
The Gladiators,
Juan Atkins,
The Techniques,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alton Ellis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Brick,
Talk Talk,
Average White Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Reed,
Popol Vuh,
Nils Olav,
Sun Ra,
Rapeman,
Rod Modell,
Parry Music,
X-Ray Spex,
Marmalade,
Fad Gadget,
David Bowie,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.