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 Liechtenstein and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 David McCallum to the rock 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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Khruangbin,
Livin' Joy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Judy Mowatt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Idris Muhammad,
Pierre Henry,
Aswad,
The Alarm Clocks,
Procol Harum,
T.S.O.L.,
The Birthday Party,
Eric B and Rakim,
Groovy Waters,
The Wake,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Green,
Alison Limerick,
Patti Smith,
Visage,
X-101,
June of 44,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gun Club,
Metal Thangz,
Can,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jandek,
Banda Bassotti,
The Victims,
Chris Corsano,
Andrew Hill,
Malaria!,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Camouflage,
The J.B.'s,
Tears for Fears,
Tommy Roe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ronnie Foster,
Howard Jones,
Sight & Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Eurythmics,
Dave Gahan,
Reuben Wilson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kenny Larkin,
Electric Prunes,
Sällskapet,
Tim Buckley,
Thompson Twins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Suicide,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.