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 Suriname and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Terrestrial Tones to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Malaria!,
Tim Buckley,
Josef K,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Seeds,
Von Mondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Evens,
Tom Boy,
Brand Nubian,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joey Negro,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Barracudas,
Shuggie Otis,
Silicon Teens,
Panda Bear,
The Sound,
Shoche,
New Age Steppers,
Section 25,
Arab on Radar,
DJ Sneak,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hardrive,
Porter Ricks,
The Dave Clark Five,
EPMD,
The Music Machine,
The Index,
Thee Headcoats,
Unwound,
The Neon Judgement,
48th St. Collective,
Crime,
Mo-Dettes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Blancmange,
Crash Course in Science,
Spandau Ballet,
The Smoke,
The Electric Prunes,
Iggy Pop,
Masters at Work,
Sight & Sound,
Goldenarms,
Reagan Youth,
The Tremeloes,
Marvin Gaye,
Siglo XX,
Sparks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Roger Hodgson,
Guru Guru,
Massinfluence,
Organ,
Boredoms,
Bang On A Can,
Fugazi,
Johnny Osbourne,
Niagra,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.