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 Dominican Republic and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Young Marble Giants to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Green,
In Retrospect,
Das Ding,
Junior Murvin,
Hoover,
Half Japanese,
E-Dancer,
Barbara Tucker,
The Monochrome Set,
U.S. Maple,
Hasil Adkins,
Charles Mingus,
The Velvet Underground,
The Star Department,
Crispy Ambulance,
Accadde A,
Archie Shepp,
Unrelated Segments,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dual Sessions,
Ultra Naté,
Sister Nancy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The New Christs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wasted Youth,
Dennis Brown,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bill Near,
Swell Maps,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
The Gladiators,
Nik Kershaw,
James Chance & The Contortions,
These Immortal Souls,
Circle Jerks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Outsiders,
R.M.O.,
Nick Fraelich,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fugazi,
The Gap Band,
Subhumans,
Brand Nubian,
Barry Ungar,
Minutemen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Harpers Bizarre,
Banda Bassotti,
The Evens,
Camberwell Now,
This Heat,
UT,
Girls At Our Best!,
Los Fastidios,
Traffic Nightmare,
Loose Ends,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.