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 Ecuador and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar 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 Jandek to the punk 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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Slits,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fuzztones,
Royal Trux,
Half Japanese,
Peter & Gordon,
The Durutti Column,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gichy Dan,
Wire,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
June of 44,
Mo-Dettes,
Matthew Bourne,
World's Most,
F. McDonald,
The Wake,
Yellowson,
Howard Jones,
Jandek,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Das Ding,
Flash Fearless,
Inner City,
Pylon,
Massinfluence,
Hashim,
kango's stein massive,
One Last Wish,
Porter Ricks,
Icehouse,
The Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Walker Brothers,
Godley & Creme,
The Standells,
Black Bananas,
Scan 7,
Ralphi Rosario,
Graham Central Station,
Camberwell Now,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barry Ungar,
Los Fastidios,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Womack,
Ten City,
Jacob Miller,
Arab on Radar,
Eve St. Jones,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Steve Hackett,
Deakin,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.