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 Iraq and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet 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 Bobby Womack to the rock 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hot Snakes,
U.S. Maple,
Supertramp,
The Mojo Men,
Severed Heads,
The Index,
Popol Vuh,
D'Angelo,
Massinfluence,
Brass Construction,
Yusef Lateef,
World's Most,
Sonny Sharrock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dead C,
Joe Finger,
Suicide,
MC5,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dark Day,
Radiohead,
Interpol,
Stetsasonic,
The Moody Blues,
The Shadows of Knight,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Angels of Light,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Can,
Todd Rundgren,
The Velvet Underground,
Steve Hackett,
Magazine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crispy Ambulance,
Swell Maps,
Johnny Osbourne,
Main Source,
Index,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kenny Larkin,
Stereo Dub,
Masters at Work,
Echospace,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aloha Tigers,
June of 44,
Howard Jones,
The Sound,
Black Bananas,
Camouflage,
Agitation Free,
Brothers Johnson,
The Motions,
Siglo XX,
Bob Dylan,
Brick,
Prince Buster,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.