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 Sweden and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Throbbing Gristle to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Hot Snakes,
Blancmange,
Groovy Waters,
Spandau Ballet,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Moss Icon,
The Remains,
The Dead C,
Vainqueur,
The Beau Brummels,
Terry Callier,
Andrew Hill,
Barbara Tucker,
Banda Bassotti,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Bar-Kays,
Sonic Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Marshall Jefferson,
Livin' Joy,
Mark Hollis,
Leonard Cohen,
Grey Daturas,
Minor Threat,
Funkadelic,
Gang Green,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Matthew Bourne,
Sam Rivers,
The Techniques,
Pole,
The Cure,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sun Ra,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Audionom,
Soft Machine,
X-101,
Davy DMX,
The Kinks,
Malaria!,
Faraquet,
Gang of Four,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dual Sessions,
Drexciya,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gang Starr,
Clear Light,
June Days,
ABC,
The Last Poets,
Minutemen,
Buzzcocks,
Monks,
DNA,
D'Angelo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
R.M.O.,
The Buckinghams,
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.