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 Poland and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sexual Harrassment to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Siglo XX,
Funky Four + One,
Deakin,
Tim Buckley,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skarface,
Barry Ungar,
The Black Dice,
Magma,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Hill,
The Monochrome Set,
The Names,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hot Snakes,
Neil Young,
Kurtis Blow,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang of Four,
The Smiths,
The New Christs,
Anthony Braxton,
The Cramps,
The Human League,
The Walker Brothers,
Anakelly,
The Stooges,
Deepchord,
Drive Like Jehu,
L. Decosne,
Cecil Taylor,
Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
Can,
Make Up,
Warsaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Buckinghams,
Maurizio,
June of 44,
Dark Day,
Half Japanese,
Minor Threat,
June Days,
The Grass Roots,
Lindisfarne,
Lungfish,
Thee Headcoats,
X-101,
Jandek,
Johnny Clarke,
Sonny Sharrock,
Angry Samoans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wings,
Jacob Miller,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.