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 Peru and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
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 linndrum 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 Stiv Bators to the crunk 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
ABBA,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minny Pops,
Radiohead,
The Slits,
Rites of Spring,
Basic Channel,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eric B and Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lucky Dragons,
Pagans,
Schoolly D,
The Modern Lovers,
In Retrospect,
The Fall,
DJ Style,
Popol Vuh,
Theoretical Girls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Albert Ayler,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mr. Review,
kango's stein massive,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fat Boys,
Model 500,
Wings,
The Seeds,
Moss Icon,
the Bar-Kays,
Delta 5,
Swans,
MC5,
The Sound,
Sam Rivers,
Chris Corsano,
The Velvet Underground,
Dawn Penn,
Negative Approach,
Isaac Hayes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Litter,
The Moleskins,
Pulsallama,
Tim Buckley,
Johnny Osbourne,
Skaos,
Barbara Tucker,
Stereo Dub,
New Age Steppers,
Agitation Free,
Idris Muhammad,
Aural Exciters,
Shuggie Otis,
These Immortal Souls,
Bluetip,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.