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 Afghanistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar 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 Masters at Work to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Bar-Kays,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Martian,
Anthony Braxton,
Newcleus,
Funkadelic,
Magma,
Fugazi,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Clear Light,
Eddi Front,
Desert Stars,
Scrapy,
Prince Buster,
Yazoo,
The Electric Prunes,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Green,
Quadrant,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobby Sherman,
Goldenarms,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ohio Players,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ornette Coleman,
The Offenders,
Yaz,
The Durutti Column,
The Mummies,
Black Moon,
The Last Poets,
The Velvet Underground,
Mo-Dettes,
Cheater Slicks,
Harry Pussy,
John Cale,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Urselle,
Aswad,
The Fuzztones,
PIL,
Blossom Toes,
Schoolly D,
The Index,
Dawn Penn,
MC5,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The New Christs,
Guru Guru,
Archie Shepp,
Alison Limerick,
The Fire Engines,
Eden Ahbez,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amon Düül II,
Sight & Sound,
Niagra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.