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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 The Real Kids to the rock 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Young Marble Giants,
Cal Tjader,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cybotron,
Wings,
The Real Kids,
The American Breed,
Laurel Aitken,
Main Source,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Janne Schatter,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ludus,
Royal Trux,
Aloha Tigers,
Ossler,
Warren Ellis,
the Germs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nils Olav,
Swans,
the Association,
Bill Wells,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Victims,
Bobby Byrd,
Flash Fearless,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cecil Taylor,
Dual Sessions,
Kaleidoscope,
Average White Band,
Swell Maps,
Slave,
The Residents,
Goldenarms,
The Moleskins,
Sonic Youth,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mars,
Animal Collective,
the Slits,
Faraquet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Khruangbin,
The Standells,
Morten Harket,
The Human League,
Tim Buckley,
Neil Young,
UT,
Motorama,
The Walker Brothers,
The Slits,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.