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 Jordan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar 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 Second Layer to the grime 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
The Count Five,
Whodini,
Pierre Henry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kevin Saunderson,
CMW,
Crispian St. Peters,
Curtis Mayfield,
X-Ray Spex,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Clear Light,
Desert Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Mark Hollis,
Minutemen,
Kas Product,
Kaleidoscope,
Bob Dylan,
Popol Vuh,
Kayak,
Roxy Music,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Ken Boothe,
Second Layer,
Jacob Miller,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
David McCallum,
Albert Ayler,
Nation of Ulysses,
Buzzcocks,
The Fire Engines,
Nik Kershaw,
Soft Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
The Red Krayola,
Loose Ends,
Lee Hazlewood,
The American Breed,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Slackers,
Zapp,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ronnie Foster,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric Dolphy,
Procol Harum,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pussy Galore,
The Evens,
Cheater Slicks,
Cymande,
Danielle Patucci,
Eurythmics,
Das Ding,
Scrapy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Green,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.