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 Georgia and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Happenings to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Khruangbin,
Darondo,
Eli Mardock,
Soft Cell,
One Last Wish,
E-Dancer,
AZ,
Skarface,
The Gladiators,
Magazine,
U.S. Maple,
Pierre Henry,
The Names,
Swans,
Los Fastidios,
Lower 48,
David Bowie,
Cameo,
Harry Pussy,
Tomorrow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cymande,
Jeff Mills,
The Busters,
Masters at Work,
the Association,
Pole,
The Fuzztones,
The Star Department,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pussy Galore,
The Buckinghams,
Althea and Donna,
Sarah Menescal,
Jerry's Kids,
Robert Hood,
This Heat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Smog,
Von Mondo,
R.M.O.,
Electric Prunes,
Deakin,
The Selecter,
Crime,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Womack,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Human League,
The Zeros,
Livin' Joy,
Joe Smooth,
the Germs,
the Swans,
Rekid,
Black Sheep,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.