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 Turkmenistan and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crime to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oblivians,
Alice Coltrane,
The Pretty Things,
Rapeman,
Kaleidoscope,
Thee Headcoats,
David Bowie,
Byron Stingily,
Chris & Cosey,
Agitation Free,
The Vogues,
Wasted Youth,
June Days,
Duran Duran,
Susan Cadogan,
Fad Gadget,
Skaos,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
8 Eyed Spy,
Main Source,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy Collins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Leaves,
Fugazi,
Lungfish,
Pylon,
Skriet,
Scrapy,
Pussy Galore,
LL Cool J,
Outsiders,
Banda Bassotti,
Eden Ahbez,
Animal Collective,
The Mummies,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dead Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deakin,
Motorama,
Bad Manners,
Nick Fraelich,
Bronski Beat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Tim Buckley,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
China Crisis,
Archie Shepp,
Lou Christie,
Pantaleimon,
The Smiths,
Angry Samoans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Lydon,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.