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 Brunei and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the grunge 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
The Tremeloes,
Unrelated Segments,
Royal Trux,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sister Nancy,
Minutemen,
The Red Krayola,
Swell Maps,
The Seeds,
Yaz,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Green,
Mantronix,
Rites of Spring,
Harmonia,
World's Most,
The Techniques,
China Crisis,
Letta Mbulu,
Marc Almond,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Moody Blues,
Boredoms,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dave Gahan,
The Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Essential Logic,
Mr. Review,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Mojo Men,
Niagra,
Amazonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Sherman,
Brothers Johnson,
Icehouse,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nas,
Pagans,
The Cure,
Malaria!,
Aural Exciters,
Yellowson,
The Neon Judgement,
Talk Talk,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rapeman,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roger Hodgson,
Aaron Thompson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Subhumans,
Nils Olav,
In Retrospect,
Black Sheep,
the Sonics,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.