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 Norway and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joe Smooth,
Bill Wells,
The Divine Comedy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Outsiders,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lower 48,
Maleditus Sound,
Mars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
EPMD,
Visage,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sandy B,
Black Bananas,
Accadde A,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sun Ra,
10cc,
Juan Atkins,
Fluxion,
China Crisis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ornette Coleman,
Brick,
Alphaville,
the Slits,
Neu!,
Smog,
Judy Mowatt,
Nils Olav,
Banda Bassotti,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skriet,
The Dirtbombs,
Panda Bear,
Ronan,
Kerri Chandler,
Tom Boy,
Neil Young,
Andrew Hill,
Boredoms,
Warren Ellis,
Supertramp,
Ten City,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scratch Acid,
Matthew Halsall,
New Age Steppers,
Arab on Radar,
PIL,
Wasted Youth,
Livin' Joy,
The Trojans,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Christie,
Amon Düül,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.