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 Qatar and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Fugazi to the punk 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Deakin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soul II Soul,
The Smiths,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris & Cosey,
John Lydon,
10cc,
Hasil Adkins,
Stetsasonic,
Ituana,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Country Teasers,
Youth Brigade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang Green,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Görl,
Byron Stingily,
Ten City,
Minnie Riperton,
the Germs,
The Fortunes,
Skarface,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeff Mills,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Warsaw,
The Misunderstood,
Monks,
Pagans,
Eden Ahbez,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dennis Brown,
K-Klass,
the Sonics,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Wake,
Clear Light,
Dave Gahan,
The Saints,
The Martian,
Negative Approach,
Yazoo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
OOIOO,
Iggy Pop,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Mummies,
Lakeside,
New York Dolls,
The Red Krayola,
Anakelly,
The Durutti Column,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Index,
Wolf Eyes,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.