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 Macedonia and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 T. Rex to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Cheater Slicks,
Mad Mike,
the Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wings,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yusef Lateef,
Minor Threat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pierre Henry,
Boz Scaggs,
Parry Music,
Adolescents,
Idris Muhammad,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gap Band,
Bill Near,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pulsallama,
Thompson Twins,
Von Mondo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Cale,
Saccharine Trust,
Swell Maps,
The Slits,
The Sonics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Brick,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arcadia,
Tubeway Army,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sexual Harrassment,
Magazine,
Chrome,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Blues Magoos,
Rapeman,
Frankie Knuckles,
The American Breed,
Sparks,
Electric Prunes,
Black Moon,
Piero Umiliani,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eurythmics,
Ludus,
Tomorrow,
Terrestrial Tones,
UT,
Mission of Burma,
Delta 5,
Sällskapet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Icehouse,
Royal Trux,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.