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 Guinea-Bissau and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator 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 The Offenders to the rap 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Joey Negro,
The Victims,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Henry Cow,
Agent Orange,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Music Machine,
The Stooges,
Youth Brigade,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Hood,
Sun City Girls,
World's Most,
The Blackbyrds,
Siglo XX,
The Standells,
Dual Sessions,
48th St. Collective,
The Birthday Party,
The Barracudas,
Altered Images,
Q and Not U,
Echospace,
Stiv Bators,
Rapeman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sun Ra,
Sonic Youth,
Derrick Morgan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Quando Quango,
the Sonics,
Stereo Dub,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Parrish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camberwell Now,
The Blues Magoos,
The Knickerbockers,
Peter & Gordon,
The Count Five,
The Index,
Todd Rundgren,
The Martian,
Ten City,
Shuggie Otis,
Pere Ubu,
Intrusion,
The Wake,
Maleditus Sound,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kevin Saunderson,
Althea and Donna,
Rakim,
UT,
Kerri Chandler,
Porter Ricks,
Shoche,
Slick Rick,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scientists,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.